This Human Heart of Mine
by walliezinga
Summary: AU, Chlerek. Rated for language. Starts off AH. Crossover fic with the author's WOTOW series. Disclaimer: I own nothing, it all belongs to Kelley Armstrong.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi Fanfictioners,**

**This is my sorry attempt at a Darkest Powers AH story, and it might not stay AH. Haven't decided yet.**

**This is a short first chapter, just as a taster, to see if i have the sort of writing you guys can bear to read, and let me know if I should continue or if this is unnecessary torture that I should keep to the confines of my laptop. (:**

**Read & Review (:**

**~Wallie**

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><p>"Chloe," My stomach lurched and I clenched my eyes shut.<p>

"Don't say it." My fingers weaved together and twisted anxiously. "I refuse to believe it." I stare beseechingly into his intense emerald eyes, pouting my lips adamantly. He ruffled his dark hair exasperatedly and searched my face desperately, bright eyes flickering over my features, lingering briefly on my lips. Gotcha. I widen my vivid sapphire eyes slightly, and he pursed his lips. Bringing his hand to his face, he rubbed the angry acne freckled over his chin, as he always did when he was frustrated. "Christ, Chloe." He moved closer to me, and crouched in front of where I was huddled on the sofa, placing his large hands either side of my thin frame for support. "It's gone. It's not coming back. Please don't be dramatic. You're making a big deal out of nothing." I pull my hands up to cover my face, resting my elbows on my knees. "Nothing? How can you say that, Derek? Does seven years mean nothing to you?" He continued to stare at me, clearly missing my point, or just not caring. "_Seven_." I reiterated., watching him through my fingers.

He sighed deeply. "You're seriously unhinged, you know that?" I giggle, but it came out muffled, due to my hands. I moved them away from my face to settle them over Derek's. "Is there really no hope?" I ask him morosely. He shook his head, eyes fixed on mine. "None, whatsoever," I shut my eyes tightly. "Chloe?"

"I was afraid of that." I whispered. A pause. "It shouldn't be this hard, should it?" He shook his head gently, lips tightening to prevent his amusement showing.

"It's not funny." I moved my hand to throw a soft punch at his shoulder. He grabbed my fist and massaged it softly, his rough thumb rubbing small circles over my knuckle. "I just can't believe you're so attached." He stated, bottle green eyes still observing me, a hint of laughter peeking through his careful façade.

A small giggle escaped me. "Me neither." I admitted, my gaze shifting over his shoulder to the small wooden table. Sitting on the dark surface was the smouldering wreckage of my broken heart, or it may as well have been. My small laptop sat innocently upon the desk in several pieces, thick black tape wound around parts in my desperate attempt to save it. Thick cracks ran patterns over it, and my heart dropped into my stomach. "Shit." I whimpered, and Derek gave a soft chuckle. "Simon told me it was bad, but I assumed it was still in one piece." I narrowed my eyes at him in a deathly glare, and all he did was smirk, apparently finding enjoyment in my sorrow. "You know I had that massive essay for Brookes stored on there, right? I'd just finished." He continued to calm me, hand stroking swirling designs over my hand. "So what have we learnt today, Saunders?" I sighed, throwing another mock glare his way. "Simon shouldn't be allowed to breed?" I joked, hazarding a guess at Derek's question. His lip twitched, which I took as a small victory. "Hate to break it to you, but I think my brother likes his balls." He smiled now, lips curving slightly, eyes glistening in amusement. "Damn." I hummed lightly, focusing on his calloused hand wrapped around mine.

Derek and Simon were my two best friends, and although they were only adopted brothers, they complemented each other perfectly, despite being complete opposites. Derek was a lumbering giant, careful and reserved, smart to the point where I couldn't even comprehend the foreign realms of his textbooks, with a mop of dark hair and green eyes that seemed to glow. His brother was a comedian, cheeky and charming. He had a way with words, and boy, did he know it. He was a social butterfly, and unnervingly popular, which is why I tended to stick with Derek, both of us being shy and socially awkward. Simon shared my love of films however, and introduced me to the world of anime. He spent most of his time drawing cartoons, which were plastered over the walls of his bedroom, masking the original colour of the wall. To be honest, I can't even remember what it was. Simon was also clumsy, just like myself, although he seemed able to turn it on and off as the situation allowed. During basketball games, he moved with a fluent grace, whereas in his own home, he could trip several times on the dangerous trip from his games console to the refrigerator. I fell a lot, sometimes rather spontaneously, forcing Derek to take up the job of catching me every time. I like to keep him on his toes.

"You can borrow my laptop?" Derek offered, bringing me out of my inner musings. I twisted my lips in an expression of mock disgust and he rewarded me with a low laugh. "You still have to do the project, Chloe." He smiled slightly, watching my face screw up in a mixture of annoyance and dread.

"I know." I growled, allowing him to drag me to my feet, and out the door.

Walking the small distance down the road to Derek's house, I smiled to myself and put a bounce in my step. "I know that look." Derek smirked.

"What look?" I questioned innocently, although the effect was ruined somewhat by the massive shit-eating grin spread across my face. "Aww, Chloe, come on." Derek whined jokily as he unlocked his front door and ushered me in.

"Try not to murder Simon." He said, as I spotted his brother's shock of blond hair situated on the sofa, the grin growing.

"Thanks, bro." Simon called, lifting his hand in acknowledgement.

"Yeah, the blood would be a nightmare to get outta the carpet." He said, face solemn as he gathered his laptop from the sofa.

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><p><strong>Love it? Please do. Flame it? Please don't.<strong>

**Unfortunately that could be wishful thinking on my part, whatever your opinion, please let me know. I can only improve if you tell me. (:**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey (:**

**Thank you for all the reviews and story alerts.  
>I had quite a bit of writer's block, trying to continue it, so this is slightly filler to help develop the characters and give you a feel of the story and my writing.<strong>

**Don't worry, inspiration struck about halfway through, I now have a vague storyline (;**

**~Wallie**

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><p>Trying to be as quiet as possible, I began my descent downstairs, pressed up against the cold wall, moving with all the grace of a drugged elephant. I reached the lower half of the staircase and inevitably lost my footing, and with a small squeal, slid on my ass to the floor with a small thump. I tensed, waiting for someone to notice my presence, and grinned when I realised my covert op was going to plan. Clenching the small plastic bag in my fist, I pushed up from the ground, only to have a large hand close around my wrist and haul me to my feet.<p>

Shit. I winced, and widened my eyes innocently, flashing him a carefree smile. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. Dammit, he knew me too well. I rolled my eyes and held my finger to my lips, signalling for silence. I cocked my head upstairs, indicating Simon and then to the bag clasped in my iron grip. His look of suspicion melted into one of slight amusement. He followed me as I stealthily ran into their kitchen and out the backdoor, humming Mission Impossible under my breath.

Once we made it to the safety of the trees bordering their garden, I relaxed and gave a small giggle, turning to face Derek, a broad silhouette in the fading light. "What did you do?" He questioned lowly, emerald eyes intensely searching mine, an untroubled smile gracing his face.

I faced him, face solemn and serious. "I did what had to be done Derek." He cocked an eyebrow, motioning for me to elaborate. I clutched the bag tighter to my chest.

"I had to avenge her." I protested, as he gave a low chuckle, moving closer to me.

"Her?" He asked sceptically, eyes laughing. I stuck my chin out, eyes locking with his. "Yes," I stated. "You got a problem with that?" He laughed then, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he moved closer, staring at the ground.

"No," He said, "But I'm sure I'll have a problem with whatever you did." He raised his face then, eyes meeting mine, amusement clear upon his features, even in the dark shadows of the forest border. Indignantly jutting my chin out, I smirked. "He deserved it, and you might wanna tell Tori to grab a camera." He smirked back, and reached for the bag, releasing it from my steel grip. Cautiously opening it, he peered inside, and barked a harsh laugh. Pursing his lips together, he looked at me questioningly. "How?" He asked. I winked slyly, and he laughed. "I have my ways."

He glanced back towards the bright lights of the house, and then back at the bag. His lips twitched, "Simon's gonna be bitching about this for ages." I smiled innocuously, "Hey, that's not my problem." He smirked, and moved even closer. "You, my friend, are evil." He stated, leaning down towards me. I tensed noticeably and he smirked, lips brushing my ear. "_Evil._" He whispered, cool breath grazing my skin, grin broadening knowingly as I shivered. He moved his face so I could meet his gaze, our noses almost brushing. I think I stopped breathing. "So incredibly evil." He said softly, eyes glowing a soothing green in the darkness. "Oh, really?" I gasped slightly, my breath coming in small pants. "You do wicked things to me, Chloe Saunders." He whispered, leaning down impossibly further, so I could almost taste his breath on my lips. I closed my eyes and waited for the expected pressure of his lips on mine. He slowly brought his hand up to cup my cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing my blushing skin softly.

The moment was broken by a high pitched scream from the house. Derek's head snapped up, and he fixed his eyes on the house. Grabbing my hand, he began to pull me towards the house, eyes glinting in determination. "Derek?" I asked softly, and pulled him to a reluctant stop. He turned to face me. "We'll talk later okay?" He asked, before he brought my hand to his lips and they carefully brushed my knuckles. Releasing my hand, he jogged to his house, yanking the back door open with unnecessary force. I followed behind, slower, and came to a stop at the open door, grasping the handle and pulling it closed behind me.

Tori stood at the counter, eyes on me, smirking perceptively. Her gaze zeroed in on my flushed cheeks, and excited blue eyes, finally reaching my lips. "Have a good time, Chloe?" She asked, flashing me a smile. I nodded, and asked, "I thought you screamed?" She laughed then, shaking her head, short black hair bouncing around her face. "Wasn't me." She sang, moving past me to the refrigerator. "Gotta thank you though," She said, face buried from my sight. "I got some great pictures." She peeked past the door then, and winked at me, her grin growing wider. "You did?" I asked excitedly, and she waved her arm in the direction of the counter, where her camera sat.

I gave a small giggle, and perched myself on the counter by her, setting my bag down beside me. "You might wanna dispose of the evidence though." She suggested, nodding to the bag, as she took a large bite of a candy bar. In, truth I had forgotten.

"Shit." I murmured, reaching for the bag again.

"_Shit_, is right." A low growl came from behind me. I whirled, clutching the white bag to my body protectively.

Simon stood in the doorway, cheeks glowing a vicious pink, arms folded across his chest. A small blue towel sat on his shoulders, and if his eyes could shoot flames, I would surely be dead. His hair glowed a fierce and unnatural green, still spiky and in messy disarray. "I know you like superheroes, but you really shouldn't play in toxic waste." I warned, and Tori giggled from beside me, reaching across for her camera.

"No, Tori," He cautioned, voice a husky growl, eyes still fixed on me. Reaching for the towel, he moved it so that it covered his hair from Tori's eager eyes and enthusiastic camera. "That wasn't very nice, Saunders." He told me, lips pressed together tightly. I giggled, he looked ridiculous. He moved from the doorway, coming towards me, fingers wiggling, a smug smirk on his face. He knew my kryptonite, I hated being tickled. With every step he took toward me, I leapt backwards, until my back had the wall. I pressed my arms to my sides, eyes squeezed shut, willing him to leave me alone. He jumped towards me, fingers finding my sides and tickling mercilessly. I crumbled to the floor, tears in my eyes, breathless. Tori sat on the counter, munching into an apple as she watched my torture. "Help." I gasped.

She shook her head. "No can do, Chlo." She brandished the camera, and before I could say anything, a bright flash blinded me. "Tori." Simon and I growled in unison, turning to face her. She hid the camera behind her back, and pulled an innocent pout onto her face. We moved towards her, now a united team. I may have to resort to sabotage, however. I needed that camera, mainly for the juicy pictures of Simon with his bright new look. Her eyes flickered first to Simon, and then to me, hedging her bets. I could almost see the gears in her brain whirring as she hatched an escape plan. Suddenly, her eyes locked in on something over my head, and her eyes brightened. "Dad!" She chirped, thankful for the interruption.

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><p><strong>Please review and tell me what you think! (:<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi (:**

**This is just to give you an idea of where I'm taking this story (:**

**Hope you like it, and it may be a pleasant suprise for some of you (;**

**~Wallie**

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><p>Kit Bae was how I imagined Simon to be in twenty or so years. He and his son shared that same charming attitude and laid back charisma. His kind smile, and witty jokes made him popular with my aunt, sickeningly so. He moved with a gentle grace, his frame thin and wiry, with subtle muscle enhancing his athleticism. He set a grocery bag down on the table, eyeing us carefully.<p>

His eyes flickered disbelievingly from Tori's seemingly innocent position and previously panic stricken expression, both hands hidden behind her back, to my outstretched hands and Simon's glowering features. Lastly his eyes moved as if magnetically, back to Simon's fluffy green head. His eyes widened, before he closed them and took a deep breath, calming himself. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed a smirking Derek settle in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

Once Kit regained his composure, he spoke calmly and slowly, as if measuring his words before talking.

"Son," He gestured for Simon to sit, and he took a seat opposite him at the small wooden table. "I know some girls may make you feel like you have to grab their attention." He gave a small smile at his son's flushed face, features set in a scowl, his brother's usual expression. He reached across and patted his forearm gently. "But, son, no girl should require you to dye your hair such an…" A slight grimace came upon his face, "…interesting colour. You hear?" Simon nodded speechless, his expression dumbstruck. I had to contain a giggle. Kit nodded, looking satisfied. "Good."

"Now kids, I need to talk to you, and Chloe, I've spoken to your aunt about this." I nodded, keen now to know the news. Tori stopped fiddling with the camera behind her back, and instead set in on her lap, hands still clutching it tightly. Damn. "Derek's biological father contacted me today."

He paused to let that sink in. I watched Derek's face carefully. He looked impassive, face set in a careful mask, emotionless and blank. If you looked carefully however, you could see the clench of his tightened jaw, and the tightening around his eyes, indicating that he was indeed affected by this news. His shoulders were hunched, although people usually attributed that not to his bad mood, but rather his large height. He met my eyes, and I smiled slightly, trying to show him my reassurance through eye contact. I don't think he was quite getting it as much as I hoped, but his lip twitched slightly as he nodded slightly at me.

"As you know, Derek's mother ran off with him at a young age, and…" Another careful glance at Derek's posture, "passed." We all nodded, and Derek stayed frozen by the door. "Your father contacted me, and wanted to see you." He spoke now directly to Derek, who nodded sharply, impatiently. "He has an adopted son, who is in his twenties." Derek's jaw clenched, and he nodded, dark hair flopping into his eyes. "He has no wife, but a girlfriend." Another nod. "His son, you're adopted brother, has a wife and twins." Derek looked up then. "I'm an uncle?" He clarified. Kit bobbed his head, relieved to finally get a reaction other than a nod. "He invited us all up for the rest of break, but if you can't handle it, or don't want to be there, we can come straight home." He assured Derek, who once again, nodded. No change there. "Do you want to go?"

Derek nodded sharply, and turned to go, before pausing in the doorway. "What's his name?" He asked. His voice sounded odd, as though he was trying desperately not to show any emotion. His voice cracked slightly towards the end, though, becoming gruff and slightly pained. I yearned to reach out and grab his hand, but I wasn't sure if that contact would be welcome right now. Derek wasn't a very touchy feely person, but recently I had been pushing those barriers with unnecessary touches. I still wasn't too sure how he felt about those though.

Kit, looking pleased at Derek asking a question, answered immediately, a trace of hesitance lacing his tone.

"Jeremy Danvers."

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><p><strong>Oooooh. NO WAY. (;<strong>

**This is now going to be a WOTOW fic as well, and may progress from being AH. But it's still definitely, and obviously, AU.**

**Review? Thanks (:**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi guys (:**

**The lovely response I've had has inspired me to write, even though it is now midnight. Heh. **

**Hope you enjoy (: Warning: Could be considered fillerish. (It's not sposed to be, swear.)**

**~Wallie**

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><p>"He's <em>so <em>hot." Tori gushed, clutching a cushion to her chest, eyes bright. I rolled my eyes, grabbing another handful of chips. I eyed the actor on screen dubiously. Admittedly, he looked pretty good for someone apparently wasting away due to a rare disease. "Yeeaahh." I drawled quietly, before chugging the remainder of my soda.

"Suit yourself," Tori remarked, eyes pretty much glued to the screen, "I like my guys blond." She shrugged, and winked saucily at me. I scoffed. "Your brother is blonde, Tor, sure you're not harbouring some feelings there?"

A handful of popcorn sprayed my face and settled in my lap. I glared at the offending items, before picking them up and flinging them one by one back at Tori. She giggled as she tried to dodge my rapid attacks. "Oi, Saunders!" She squealed, moving the cushion up as a shield. "That one went down my top." She accused, adjusting herself and wiggling her top. I snorted, that was one of the only pros to having absolutely no chest: I was safe from popcorn invasion. When the lone soldier emerged from her top, she lifted it and flicked it at my face. It flew over my head, and onto the floor, almost hitting Simon as he entered the room. "Whoa." He held his hands up in mock surrender. "Am I under attack?" He joked, while grabbing the popcorn from the floor and dropping it into his mouth. Tori's jaw dropped. "What?" He asked, confused by Tori's reaction. "Ten second rule, right?" He nudged me as he moved to sit down. I had to stifle a giggle. "That was down Tori's top for more than ten seconds." I commented idly, keeping my eyes fixed on the screen, as he relaxed, hoisting his feet to rest on the small coffee table, shoving aside the massive bowl of popcorn and knocking the DVD case to the floor.

A choking noise emanated from where Simon was sat on the floor. I grinned, pretending to be transfixed watching the blonde actor declare his love for a statuesque brunette beauty.

"You're kidding." He squeaked. My grin grew, but I carried on watching the sappy film. Another choking noise. "Ohmygod you're not joking." He began to gag dramatically, until Tori kicked him lightly in the head. "Shut up." She snapped. "You won't die." He turned to face her, his features solemn.

"I'm going to need confirmation of that." She rolled her eyes.

"Ever think about joining the drama club?" She asked, sarcasm colouring her voice.

He began to stroke an imaginary beard. Oh god.

"Are you high?" I intervened, cutting off Tori's next mocking comment.

She shook her head as a low voice rumbled, "He gets like this when his blood sugar is out of whack."

Derek stood behind me, face shadowed, eyes dull, hair lank. He looked sick, and I knew for a fact that he hadn't emerged from his room since the news of his dad, Simon acting as food messenger. I felt worry begin to stir in the pit of my stomach. "You alright?" I asked quietly, as he moved to perch on the arm of the sofa. He nodded slowly, almost absently, as his eyes strayed to the TV. I refused to believe he was genuinely interested in the movie, as the blonde guy was currently pulling off his thin shirt and displaying his abs. I heard a small sigh to my left and rolled my eyes. Tori was close to drooling. Derek lowered his head and whispered into my ear, his warm breath tickling the shell. "You call yourself a film lover." He chuckled softly, "You really enjoy watching _that_." His rough voice held thinly veiled distaste. I turned my head slightly so I could analyse his expression. His eyes were narrowed, taking in the half-naked man dominating the screen, now yelling at his lover as rain poured down, soaking them both. I rolled my eyes. How cliché. With a grin I informed Derek, "I don't."

His lips twisted, and I could almost hear the gears grinding in his oversized brain. "Huh? Then why are you watching it?" He asked, eyebrows furrowed. I giggled, loving that I could confound Derek, child genius and math whiz.

"Look at Tori." I murmured, and he leaned over me to grab a handful of popcorn, skilfully taking in Tori as he did so. He resettled beside me, sliding down as I moved to make room, a smirk graced his lips. "She's basically panting." He breathed into my ear, his lips brushing my hair gently.

I released a breathless giggle. I kept my eyes dutifully on the screen as I moved my hand, slyly sliding my hand further towards Derek. I gasped lightly as his warm hand engulfed mine, and I felt him grin against my hair. I did a quick sweep of the room, before my eyes flickered back to the TV. No one had noticed. Simon was shoving food into his mouth in between snorting delicately at the cheesy lines and predictable plot, while Tori held a scrunched up tissue to her face to catch her tears, while shamelessly eye fucking the leading actor.

As the credits began rolling, Derek's hand shifted and returned to his lap, leaving my own cold and lonely. I pouted slightly before pulling mine back and reaching for my bag of chips, offering it to Derek first out of courtesy. The problem is that Derek's idea of a 'small handful' is equivalent to about four of mine, meaning that my supply of chips was rapidly depleting. I scowled at him, but he rebuffed it with a small quirk of the lips. Damn boy. Tori, sniffling slightly, reached for the remote, switching off the TV and hitting Simon in the back of the head gently with her knee.

He ignored her, extending his legs. She repeated her actions, but harsher, causing him to jerk. "Can I help you?" He enquired lazily, stretching his arms.

"Fetch the DVD from the machine?" She asked hopefully. I expected him to fight her on it, but after yawning, he answered, "Sure." I was confused; he didn't even contemplate it, or run through a mental list of favours he could call upon in the future.

"Simon, check your blood sugar. Now." Derek's tone was low and authoritative. Obviously he too was wondering what was up with his brother. Simon pushed the disc into it's case before flinging it into Tori's lap. "On it." He countered, his voice lifeless, as he trudged from the room. _What?_ I mouthed to Derek, and he shrugged, equally clueless as to Simon's sudden mood change. I chanced a glance at Tori, who looked equally perplexed. "I'll go talk to him." I said uncertainly, hoisting myself up and heading down the hallway.

I caught Simon stepping through the bathroom door, zipping up his black case. "Hey, Chlo." He smiled, but it was lifeless, eyes distant. "Simon, what's wrong?" He shook his head, and threw on an amused mask that didn't reach his eyes. "Simon." I warned.

He moved past me. "Fine." He said, opening his bedroom door and ushering me through. When I was safely inside, I took a moment to look around and check out the drawings decorating his walls, inhaling the scent of fresh paint and art supplies; the scent that was so typically Simon. He stayed by the door, motioning to the bed with a quick jerk of his head. I sat, swiftly plonking my butt on his pale blue sheets. "Care to share now?" I asked, but he responded with a hasty question of his own.

"Chloe, do you like Derek?"

_Oh._

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><p><strong>Boom.<strong>

**What'dya think?**

**Please review or PM me, in need of a good cheer up (:**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, I'm in a writing mood, so here's the next chapter.**

**Enjoy (:**

**~Wallie**

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><p>A tense silence smothered us, until I broke it with a breathy, uncomfortable laugh. "Of course I do." I answered. Simon went rigid, face hard and unwavering.<p>

"I like both of you." I continued, blithely choosing to ignore his reaction, as he blanched. "You guys are two of my best friends." I smiled cautiously, watching as understanding overtook his features. "No, Chloe." He corrected, "I meant _like._" He placed emphasis on the last word, making sure I fully understood. I paused, taking in his taut features and clenched fists. "Would it be bad if I did?" I asked him gently, as he fiddled absently, twirling a pencil. He looked up at me, halting the pencil's movement, eyes pained. "Yes," He blurted, then back-tracked frantically. "No." He answered desperately, closing his eyes. "I don't know." He told me quietly, eyes fixed resolutely on the small pencil.

"Simon, I don't understand." I told him carefully. He laughed, almost distractedly,

"Of course you don't Chlo. You're so naïve." Another harsh laugh. I felt tears spring to my eyes. "What?" I whispered.

"Come on, Chloe," He told me, rushing forward to grasp my hands in his own soft ones. It felt wrong, I preferred the feel of Derek's rough calloused hands engulfing mine. I went to pull mine out of his grip, but he clung on desperately. "I like you, Chloe." He breathed, face looming nearer to mine. Panic. Interpreting my alarm as bewilderment, he repeated himself, emphasising 'like' again, eliminating any confusion. Oh crap. I swallowed nervously, and he brushed my cheekbone gently with his knuckle. "Chloe," He paused, as though gathering his thoughts. "Derek's not going to stick around." I cocked my head in confusion. He laughed again, but it was pained, bitter. "You can't be that slow Chloe." He moved impossibly closer, and my breathing hitched. I didn't like Simon's new found closeness. He smiled, construing it as a nervous reaction.

"He's got a new family Chloe. You really think he's gonna want us?" He asked me, twirling my hair idly. I felt my breathing quicken again in panic, wondering if Simon was right, and Simon's grin grew wider. "You like that?" He breathed, grabbing my hair again, moving his face closer. I shook my head numbly. His face fell, eyes radiating confusion and hurt. "What?" He murmured, sounding unbelievably broken. My heart unable to withstand the guilt, I went to move away from him. "No." He spoke in a low voice, pain colouring his tone. He clutched my hands tightly. "I can't lose both of you." In a rush of sympathy, I shuffled back to my previous spot, but made no move to reach out to him, still feeling uncomfortable. He leaned his head on my shoulder, and I felt my neck dampen. "Simon." I spoke, but was cut off. "I'm sorry." He sighed. "For what?" I asked, choosing to dismiss the awkward events and prevent our friendship crumbling. "For this." He whispered into my shoulder.

I furrowed my eyebrows, and opened my mouth to question him but was quickly silenced by a pair of soft lips on mine.

I didn't move, didn't react. Nothing. I didn't even close my eyes. Simon began enthusiastically, and it took him a while to realise his excitement and eagerness was purely one sided. He removed his lips from mine, but didn't move away. I could feel his breath on my face, and I could taste cinnamon. I waited patiently while warm, confused brown eyes analysed my face. I kept my eyes focused on the worn fabric of my jeans, and only looked up when I heard a gentle sigh. "Definitely the wrong guy, huh?" He asked, twisting his lips slightly in self-deprecation. I nodded slightly, forcing an easy smile. "Sorry." I murmured, as his thumb rubbed my cheek tenderly. A short laugh. "It's not your fault." A pause. "Never your fault." We locked eyes, and I saw relief, and a hint of a smile. I also noticed a ghost of the embarrassment and hurt that haunted him before. I smiled gently at him, smothering my immense guilt. We were knocked out of our friendship- repairing moment by a short knock on the open door. Our heads shot up and I blushed.

Derek dominated the doorway, his large frame blocking it, as he grunted a sharp apology. His eyes met mine, and I tried to convey to him that this was not what it looked like. He had pulled on a blank mask, but that didn't stop me detecting the shock and hurt that flickered across his face before he gained control. Looking deeply into his intense green eyes, pain subtly darkening them, I flinched. He took this as an admission of guilt and swiftly turned to flee. "No." I called out, but he ignored me.

"Shit." I cried, stomping my foot in true tantrum fashion. "I'm sorry." Simon stammered, eyes guilty. "You should be." I told him, still angry, before collecting myself. "I didn't mean that." I spoke quietly. He nodded in response.

"I'm going to go find him." I informed Simon, rushing to the stairs. He was five seconds behind me, tailing me to the door. "Don't." He called out. I paused, confused, "Why not?"

"He'll come home eventually. Promise."

I let loose a snort of derision. "Simon, he's upset, and probably feeling pretty betrayed." At least Simon had the decency to look sufficiently guilt-ridden. "I'm going to find him." I declared, as running out the door and into the cold, dark February evening.

I slowed as I moved down the street, my brain kicking in and taking precedence over the burst of adrenaline that fuelled my mission. I braked, brain whirring, as I considered where Derek could have gone. I scuffed my dirty sneaker against the damp sidewalk as I thought. _If I was Derek, where would I go?_

Suddenly, it hit me right between the eyes, and I sprinted down the dark street, trying not to skid on the wet surface. Knowing my luck I'd end up in the emergency room before making it to the next block.

I came to a halt as I swung around the next corner. Two men stood slumped against a fence, talking quietly, the amber glow of their cigarettes like fireflies in the darkness. The glow of a cell phone illuminated the face of one of the men. His face was rugged and unshaven, eyes dark and sunken. As I drew closer I noticed a scar along one cheekbone, made more prominent every time he took a drag of his cigarette. I cringed, fear flooding my body. I could turn back, and go home. As soon as the thought entered my head, I dismissed it. I wouldn't do that. I promised myself I would find Derek. _He could be back at home,_ my mind devised hopefully, but I shook it off. I knew where he had gone. When we were younger, we found a small area by the local park; a clearing framed by small trees and beautiful flowers during the spring. It was our place, and we always went there when we needed to think. It was hidden by bushes and trees, providing privacy. It was perfect, and I wasn't even sure I could find it in the pitch black darkness.

As I neared the two men, I held my breath, one reached out to smack my butt, and I recoiled, speeding up and rushing past them. "Hey cutie," One called out, blowing smoke in my direction, a trace of amusement in his tone as he watched me panic. I carried on, quickening my pace, frantic to get either to Derek or the safety of the hidden clearing. I heard a low rumbling chuckle, and then heavy footsteps. They were following me.

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><p><strong>DUN DUN DUN.<strong>

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	6. Chapter 6

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**You guys are amazing, let's see how Chloe fares.. **

**Read on, **

**~Wallie**

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><p>Panic flooded my senses immediately, eliminating any coherent logical thoughts. I sped up, and instantly heard a low chuckle echo ominously, sounding loud and menacing in the dark and empty street.<p>

I cast my mind back frantically to the safety talks we'd had at school. I was short, and I had no doubt in my mind that if I ran, they would catch me, their legs being twice as long as mine. Screaming was another option, but I was afraid that if I opened my mouth nothing would come out, except maybe a couple of choked squeals, which wouldn't be helpful, and I was sure that they would catch me before any passer by would. The last option was fighting my way out of it; I internally scoffed at myself for even entertaining the thought. The closest I ever got to fighting was when I watched Derek fly at his punch bag, which to be honest scared me slightly, or maybe that time in third grade when Kari threatened me over the last cookie. Nothing like this. These men genuinely scared me; they were tough, mean and indescribably huge, putting Derek to shame, with their intimidating muscles and gargantuan frames.

I wondered briefly if I would be one of those stories: The ones my aunt warns me about after watching the evening news. So many tales of girls raped, mugged and murdered; their unattractive school pictures plastered across television screens, all meeting the same fate. I felt ill even considering it.

"Where ya going, cutie?" A deep southern twang floated through the shadows, making me shudder, a cold chill seeping through my bones. I could see the park gates, illuminated faintly by a low flickering streetlight.

"Not so fast." A smooth whisper by my ear, making me gasp. A cold hand wrapped around my wrists, wrenching me backwards until I hit a had body, knocking my breath out of me. His large body engulfed mine, but it did not make me feel safe, like Derek's. An involuntary whimper escaped my lips, and another hand clamped over my mouth. I struggled against the firm grip, and I felt, as well as heard his chuckle, the vibrations shaking my body. Panic overwhelmed me, and I screeched through his thick fingers. Another laugh, as if my struggle amused him. It probably did.

"Now, now, cutie. Don't ya wanna play?" He murmured into my ear, his foul breath ghosting along my throat. I shook my head furiously, and I felt him smirk against my neck, lips brushing the goose bumps. "You ain't scared of me, surely?" He drawled, his tone dark, before nipping at my neck. I gasped against his hand, and I tasted dirt, and tobacco. I wanted to cry, scream and throw up, all at the same time. I would give anything to be curled up on the couch with Derek, Tori and Simon screaming obscenities at each other over the remote. I felt tears burn my eyes, and blinked furiously. At this point in a movie, I would be yelling at the useless heroine to do something, anything, and not be a hopeless damsel in distress. But the beauty of film is that even though the heroine is ridiculously inadequate to save the day, she will inevitably be rescued. In real life, there was no such guarantee.

So I stood here, in the clutches of a terrifying man, shaking beyond belief, wishing hopelessly for my rescuer.

The other man came up behind him, taking one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground, dangerously close to the toes of my sneaker, and stomped on it, grinding it into the damp sidewalk. He moved closer, his disgusting breath fanning over my face. It felt like drowning, or so I imagined.

"She looks a bit young for me." He informed his friend, frowning slightly, before smacking away the hand covering my mouth, and lifting my chin. I met his gaze defiantly, but tried not to show my fear. My eyes may have shown false courage, but I was shaking furiously, and he noticed. He leaned into my neck, and exhaled exaggeratedly. "You smell that, Liam?" He murmured huskily to his friend, who nodded, smirking.

"It's only a pup, Ramon, chill. I'm sure I can change her mind." The one holding me, who I assumed was Liam, nipped at my neck again, making me hiss.

"You always did like cute little blonde playthings." Ramon smirked, watching me carefully. I wriggled defiantly under Liam's tight grip.

"She's feisty too." Ramon chuckled, before stopping and sniffing again.

"You smell that?" He was suddenly alert, and I imagined a dog with it's ears upright.

"What?" Liam grunted absently, continuing his ghastly ministrations on my neck and collarbone, tugging on my hair. I squeaked, and he jerked my head, using my ponytail as leverage.

"I'll be right back." He told him sharply, eyeing the nearby shrubbery.

"Let's take this somewhere more… private." Liam growled gutturally into my ear.

"No," I moaned softly, renewing my frantic escape attempts.

With a sudden wrench near my navel I was thrown over his broad shoulder, his large hands keeping a death grip on my thighs as I bounced: a sure sign we were moving.

I squinted at the ground but could barely make out Liam's legs, never mind the surroundings.

A large crack echoed, and Liam tensed. "Shit," He cursed, before dumping me on the ground, keeping a clasp on my wrist. He hauled me to his chest and backed up against an old oak tree, turning me to face the surrounding bushes.

I listened carefully, as he seemed to be doing. All I could hear was Liam's faint but rapid breathing and the barely audible squeak of the child's play set not too far away, moving in the wind. I could also hear my own heavy breathing, my heart pounding in my chest desperately. Liam suddenly brought a hand up to cover my mouth and muffle my convoluted breathes. "Shhhh, darlin'." He whispered huskily into my ear, eyes scanning the surroundings.

Then I heard it. A small scuffle in the bushes, a crashing noise, as though something was running straight at us through the undergrowth. I didn't bother to contain my scream, as a large body flew out of the bushes, landing a few feet away from us. Liam's hand tightened over my mouth.

Ramon straightened and observed us critically. "Shit, man. You ain't done with her yet?"

Liam sighed, and gave a sinister chuckle, "I was getting to it."

Ramon gave an impatient glance over his shoulder, "Well, you may never get to it. Apparently pups are pretty pissy about their territory." He threw an amused glance at me.

"Aw, what?" Liam whined.

"Just think of it as an inconvenience." Ramon spoke confidently, "We take this kid out, no problem. You get blondie, and then we disappear."

Liam nodded, before licking my neck. I shuddered, and writhed. He chuckled against my skin. "Don't be so impatient, sugar."

There was another loud crashing noise, and another body fell into the path. Wearing ripped jeans, and a torn shirt, Derek stood before me, panting and sweating profusely, his green eyes glowing like beacons in the night. If the situation weren't so serious, I would have made a Hulk joke.

He eyed Liam's hands on me, and the colour of his eyes grew in intensity. "Get your hands off her. Now." He growled lowly.

Liam and Ramon chuckled, exchanging a playful glance. Derek tensed, and snarled. I wanted to pinch myself. Seeing Derek now, he looked almost animalistic. Nothing like my best friend who prides himself on being a sulky introvert. I was, for the first time, truly scared of Derek. The anger clear on his face frightened me, but it didn't faze these men. Not at all.

"Come and get her, pup."

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><p><strong>Ooooh. <strong>

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	7. Chapter 7

**Hey (:**

**I know this story isn't very popular, and maybe not even that well written, but I am actually quite enjoying it so it's going to get regular updates. xD**

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**~Wallie**

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><p>If looks could kill, Liam would most likely be chilling with Hades. Derek looked ready to spit fire, his arms shaking with barely controlled anger. He tensed, preparing to leap forward, but a large shudder racked his frame, halting his movement. He paused in confusion, eyeing his rippling bicep suspiciously. Liam and Ramon began to chuckle. "What's wrong, pup?" Ramon teased Derek, leering. Derek gave himself a small smack on the arm, and the quivering ceased. He exhaled deeply, rubbing his burning eyes. "You feel it yet?" Ramon sneered.<p>

"What?" Derek grunted. Ramon's eyes widened, and he hooted.

"Liam, this pup's daddy ain't taught him anything! You sure he ain't a Cain?"

Liam chuckled, and I felt the vibrations. "I'm sure." He whispered against my neck, his stubble rubbing roughly against my skin. I squirmed and felt him smirk.

Liam straightened, his head moving from it's place on my shoulder. "He's a carbon copy of Danvers." He cocked his head, examining Derek, who was fuming and swaying precariously, rubbing his forehead. "Except for the eyes. I ain't got no idea where _they _came from."

A sickening crack filled the clearing, and Derek moaned, falling to his knees. "Derek!" I squealed. "What did you do?" I screamed hysterically at Ramon, before Liam's disgusting hand clamped down over my mouth. I sobbed into his hand, as I watched Derek writhe on the ground, sickening cracks coming from his curled body, as he whined pitifully. Ramon laughed cruelly, and bent over to watch Derek thrash painfully. He chuckled darkly, before whispering something I couldn't hear into Derek's ear and moving away. My relief was only short-lived, however, as he lunged forward suddenly and booted Derek in the ribs, causing another stomach-churning crack. Was Derek even conscious now? I struggled hopelessly against Liam's grip, and felt him tense. At first I thought he was just tightening his hold, but I noticed Ramon perk up, and scan the surroundings. He moved silently to Liam's side.

"Please tell me that ain't what I think it is." Liam murmured to Ramon, who rubbed his jaw in frustration, and spoke in an undertone.

"Nah, I smell it too. We can't risk it."

"Aw, damn. I was just about to have some fun with Shortie, here."

I squeaked in protest, but no one paid attention. Liam and Ramon seemed to be weighing their options, and Derek was too busy laying crumpled on the floor. I felt utterly useless. "We're downwind." Liam noted, "We just stay quiet, there's a good chance we won't get caught."

Ramon nodded hesitantly, before catching himself and shaking his head. "You can. I'm outta here. I ain't gonna be Pack kibble, no matter how much you pay me." He moved down the path, throwing Derek one last glance, and ruffling my hair. "See ya, blondie." He muttered, before jogging away.

This was disconcerting, but slightly comforting. If Ramon was gone, I'm pretty sure I could take Liam. Possibly. Wishful thinking was my strong point. Suddenly, my brain decided to kick into overdrive, and I panicked. If whatever was near was bad enough to warrant _Ramon_ running away, shouldn't I be sprinting for Mexico? I shivered at the thought. I had to get Derek and I out of here. He lay still on the floor, his muscles shuddering gently as he whimpered quietly. He was in bad shape. Even on my good days I was only strong enough to carry Tori's shopping bags. Damn.

In movies, what does the heroine do when her rescuer gets the crap beaten out of him? I had no clue. This wasn't looking good for our heroes. I fumbled desperately for inspiration, my mind frenziedly seeking an escape. Choking back my disgust, I turned in Liam's embrace, reaching up to stroke his hair. I ducked my head slightly to hide my revulsion. His hair was greasy and matted with mud, but he smirked down at me.

He chuckled quietly to himself, moving his hands south to rest on my butt. I gritted my teeth and forced myself not to throw up on him before wrenching myself away and running. "Cutie, as much as I'm likin' that you're warmin' to the idea, I was kinda enjoyin' the fight you were puttin' up." I pushed a fake smile onto my face, trailing one hand slowly down his body to rest on his belt loops. I began to trace the waist of his dirty jeans hopefully, groping subtly for a weapon tucked into his waistband. I was starting to panic when cool metal touched my fingertips. I fingered the small knife tucked neatly into his belt, and his hand quickly came down on my wrist, restraining me. My hand dangled mere centimetres away from the weapon, and I internally huffed. Liam's smell was starting to make me feel inescapably nauseous.

He clasped both my wrists, bringing them up to his shoulders, so that both of my arms were being held straight. He leaned down, his rank breath polluting my airspace. He stared into my eyes, and I gazed back, surly, determined not to flinch.

"You got guts, darlin'." He breathed, and I stuck my chin out boldly. Feeling sudden courage course through me, I stared deeply into his eyes and smiled sweetly. He blinked, thoroughly confused by my abrupt mood change. He gave me a dark grin, before leaning in further. My sugary smile still plastered on my face, I brought my knee up as hard as I could. His smile faltered, and his eyes widened, followed by a loud hiss and a string of curse words. His hands released my wrists, and I jumped back, before springing forward and giving him a few kicks for extra measure, including one to the head. They didn't seem to cause him any additional pain, unfortunately, but he remained on the floor.

I backed away warily, keeping an eye on his hunched and howling figure, until my heel hit something that curled around my foot. Glancing down, I saw Derek's hand wrapped around my ankle, his thumb gently rubbing circles. Noticing his exhausted demeanour, I crouched beside him, ignoring my recently knocked-down enemy like all stupid movie heroines. I grabbed one of his hands in both of mine, squeezing gently. His eyes were closed and his breathing shallow, face pale and sweaty. I pressed a gentle kiss to his damp forehead, brushing away his hair carefully, noting how it felt different, almost like a husky's coat.

"Derek." I whispered, tears cracking my voice. I hated to see him so broken and bruised, when he was usually so strong and unaffected. It was all my fault. His hand tightened around my ankle, and he pulled me so I was sitting beside him. I rubbed his hand gently, reassuringly, noticing how the texture was slightly different. The palm of his hand was rougher, more like sandpaper, but softer. I turned his hand over gently, examining it. His nails had changed shape, and his fingers were slightly shorter, trembling in mine as though they couldn't keep their shape. I felt ill.

"Derek." I choked out, through my pathetic sobs, "I'm so sorry."

"You should be." A low voice sounded behind me. I'd forgotten Liam. As I turned to face my attacker, a golden blur shot from the bushes, pinning Liam to the ground, and making me almost wet my pants.

A massive tawny wolf towered over Liam, growling manically, baring gleaming white fangs menacingly. Liam yelped, like a misbehaving puppy, before raising his hands in surrender, backing away slowly. The wolf snorted, snapping his jaws dangerously close to Liam's face. He fell back again, whimpering pathetically at the fair-haired creature. "I'm sorry." Liam whined. The wolf growled lowly, nipping at Liam's shoulder in irritation. The scared man backed up again, tripping over himself, before finding the path and shedding clothing as he moved away. I was speechless. If faced with a dangerous creature, why strip your clothes?

I shook my head, then tensed as the wolf didn't follow Liam as I had expected but turned to face me, it's teeth exposed and dangerously pointy.

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><p><strong>ANOTHER CLIFFIE, you say? ;P<strong>

**Well, it's kinda one. Just for RandomReader15, who claims I have a thing for cliffhangers.**

**It's true, I'm really not ashamed. I have to keep you guys coming back somehow. xD**

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	8. Chapter 8

I tensed, backing up against Derek's hunched figure. My eyes were wide and I'm sure my panic couldn't have been clearer. Could wolves sense fear? I wasn't sure. My eyes watered as I observed the creature quietly, carefully avoiding it's eyes as if to avoid a confrontation. I remembered reading somewhere, possibly in one of Derek's many books, that eye contact usually constituted a fight for dominance. I didn't know if it would apply or even help in this situation, so I remained crouched by Derek, forcing my breathing to remain shallow as my eyes tracked the frozen beast warily. Although I was trying to minimise my presence, beside me Derek was panting heavily, a small whimper occasionally escaping as his fingers dug into the damp dirt. The scent of his sweat was heavy in the air, and his hair was glued to his forehead from the exertion. The wolf cocked it's head at Derek, stepping closer curiously.

Instinctively, I threw myself in front of Derek, moving to hover over his fragile form. I felt his forehead rest against my bicep, and his warm laboured breathes warm my skin. His damp face felt hot yet slick as he nuzzled my arm, somehow reassuring me in all of this mess. "Chloe." He growled against my cool skin, his voice sounding different. It was gruffer than usual, strangely distorted. It made me shiver lightly, and Derek used his arm to pull me closer to him, obviously assuming it was due to the frigid temperature. I didn't complain however, the boy was better than a radiator, and burrowed neatly into his shoulder, moving my arm to thread my fingers into his hair, still keeping my eyes cautiously on the careful predator. Derek moved his arm from my own to wind deftly around my waist, his hand splayed against my thigh. Yes, I am that small. He pulled me even closer, burying his head into my side, inhaling sharply as if in pain, before relaxing slightly. He made a guttural noise, his voice gravely. At first I assumed it was due to the pain, but he seemed to be attempting words, gasping and spitting rough noises. Honestly, alien languages in Star Trek made more sense. "What?" I asked quietly, my eyes still glued to the golden wolf, who stood motionless on the other side of the clearing. It's ears swivelled however, betraying it's stillness. It's eyes flickered over us, and confusion was clear in it's stance. "… Go." Derek rasped, his eyes clenched shut, and his fist curled at my hip.

I immediately turned to look at Derek in disbelief, momentarily forgetting the bloodthirsty pair of fangs also residing in the clearing. "No, Derek." I told him firmly, pulling myself nearer to him, close enough that I could virtually taste the sweat and worry. "I'm not leaving you." My eyes flickered up to the golden beast, "Especially with that." I murmured. He shook his head against me, grunting. He made a small noise, almost like a barking cough, and shook his head again. "Don't… Go." He rasped out, and I saw a flash of sharp teeth. I shook my head slightly as his eyes met mine. The fear in his eyes was tangible, and it scared me beyond belief. Derek never got scared. Derek chased away the bad dreams, and frightened the bullies, and mocked the malicious teenage girls. He was the protector, not me. "I'm here." I spoke charily, attempting to keep my voice steady. My voice cracked with unshed tears however, and I knew my eyes were screaming with terror. My hand stroked his damp hair and clammy face tenderly. Before I knew it, my eyes were leaking, worry streaming down my face. I hated seeing Derek so broken, with nothing I could do about it. "What did they do to you?" I cried quietly, absently; Derek was in no shape to provide me with a coherent answer. I felt his nails extend, and dig slightly into the bare skin of my hip. He loosened his hold and I felt, rather than heard, the click as his arm changed shape. I winced at the sound as a hiss seeped from his clenched teeth, his head angled slightly away from me, trying to hide something. This drew my attention to his mouth, and my eyes widened, though I tried to mask it. Derek's jaw was lengthening slowly, his nose stretching, his lips darkening, the faint stubble thickening, making his skin appear shadowed. His eyes remained the same, however, so I focused on those. The burning green kept me grounded, a reminder that this was Derek. My best friend, and who knows what else. My heart and mind were at war on that one, a large tangle of emotions and fumbled logic. But I pushed that aside. He needed me. I noticed his eyebrows growing, broadening, spreading across his face, but kept concentrating on his eyes. They were watching me carefully, analysing me, as they always did. His eyes begged me, pleaded with me to help him. But what could I do? Ignoring my brain, which was screaming for me to get away, I tugged myself closer, and pushed my face into the crook of his neck, my hand still rhythmically stroking his head. He hummed in contentment, before grunting in pain. I felt his shoulder shift against my own, grinding gruesomely. I gritted my teeth, feeling his body buzz with pain and physical exertion, overlooking the fact that I was currently soaking his neck with my never-ending flood of tears.

"What's happening?" I whispered hoarsely, sorrowfully, against his neck, tasting the heat and salt of his sweaty skin. A rustle in the bushes drew my attention, and I spun, causing Derek's head to fall and rest on my shoulder blade. He drew in a sharp breath as the sudden movement jostled him. I murmured an apology, as I scanned the clearing. The wolf was gone. I relaxed slightly into Derek's misshapen form, his embrace unusual, his arms bent out of shape. I forced back a shudder, and the chill that ran down my spine. His bones were stretching, twisting, driving themselves into a new, macabre shape. I had no idea what was happening, but I knew what I was looking at. My brain denied what I was seeing, rejecting the idea. This kind of thing belonged in Hollywood, where the impossible was brought to life on screen. Not here, right now. Not to Derek.

Another rustle, and a man emerged from the bushes. I jumped, suspended over Derek protectively, although I had no idea what I could do to anything set on attacking. Unless this was a typical man, with an irrational fear of girl's tears, I was out of luck.

I blushed as he walked suavely into full view. He was naked as the day he was born. He smirked as he watched me endeavour to control my facial features. I could do nothing about my furiously flaming cheeks, but I tried heatedly to keep my gaze away from a certain piece of his anatomy, knowing it would do nothing to cool my blush. Instead I focused on his face, and had to then work to keep my jaw from dropping. The man was good looking, I'll give him that, but it didn't make me relax my defensive stance. What kind of guy takes a stroll in the woods _sans_ clothing? Not the good kind, I was sure.

"Stay away." I warned, though the waver in my voice made my words seem weak, pathetic. I internally winced as he stepped closer, bringing his arms up in mock surrender. His cerulean blue eyes danced over my face curiously, before jumping to Derek's warped body, hunched and moaning. He took a small step closer, and I repeated my warning. He smirked, amused by my actions, and paused. Raising his tanned hand to his golden curls, he ruffled them bemusedly, as if contemplating his next move. "Little girl," He chuckled, "You think I got a weapon concealed?" I tried not to blush at the unintentional innuendo in his words. I failed miserably, and his lips twitched. He brought his hand back down to his side, and I inadvertently tracked it with my eyes until I realised I was basically ogling the man. As my cheeks flamed with renewed vigour, he moved closer. "I meant it." My voice shook.

He bobbed his head, blonde hair bouncing. "I don't doubt it." He eyed me and my small frame amusedly.

Derek moaned then, and the man's eyes leapt back to him. He winced slightly. "I can help." He offered, edging closer. I steeled myself, attempting to look threatening.

"No, you can't."

"Yes, I can." I shook my head, exasperated. The man was persistent, I'd give him that, but he was still naked, and I was not comfortable with that.

I shifted slightly, and he rubbed his temples in frustration.

"You can trust me." He promised quietly.

"Not with the night I've had." I replied, my voice matching his.

"Maybe if I introduced myself." He smiled wryly, "My wife always tells me not to jump into situations."

I returned the smile cautiously, "Maybe you should listen to her."

His smile twitched fondly, as if in reminiscence, blue eyes searching mine. Though his face seemed relaxed, his shoulders and defensive stance betrayed him. His smile seemed slightly forced, except for when he mentioned his spouse. He reminded me of Derek, who was curled against me. Derek needed the help. I eyed the man speculatively.

"Clayton Danvers." The man announced, holding out a large, tanned hand.

I choked, watching his hand hover in front of my face. "What about him?"

A low chuckled rumbled. "I am him." He smirked, as my eyes widened, and I pieced it together. _Danvers._

"Jeremy's my father." He clarified.

"Do you know what's wrong with Derek?" I questioned hopefully, my gaze returning to his deformed and shaking body, completely forgetting the awkwardness of the fact that Derek's brother was standing with his genitals by my head.

"Yeah." He grunted, and knelt on the other side of Derek, eyeing him the way a doctor would a patient.

"So?" I asked desperately, pleading with him to do something. His eyes ran over Derek's clicking bones, and the hair that was now slowly receding.

"It's a genetic thing." He spoke quietly.

"Will he be okay?"

"Define, 'okay'." He verbalised, as I sat back on my haunches, watching a stranger console Derek. Not a stranger, I shook myself. _Brothers._

I was knocked out of my reverie by a choking noise. I raised my eyes in time to watch Derek spectacularly upchuck all over said brother.

I grimaced, "Bonding experience?" I offered weakly, as Clayton observed his defiled lap in silent horror.


	9. Chapter 9

When the shudders and dry heaves were reduced to nothing more than laboured breathing and faintly twitching limbs, I allowed myself to relax slightly. I ran my eyes over Derek's muscular form, seemingly lifeless and covered with a light sheen of sweat. He looked exhausted. I realised, concealing a yawn, that I was too. I raised my head and found Clay's blue eyes on me, studying me. Rolling my eyes, I commented, "You and Derek are so alike." His eyes widened slightly, and dropped back down to Derek, lying between us. His face was shadowed slightly, pained as he watched Derek's breathing slow and even out as he fell into sleep. "We're not related." He told me quietly. I paused, considering my words. If Clay was as similar to Derek as I thought, I would have to be careful with what I chose to say. After pondering for a moment, I spoke softly, "You share a father." Silence fell between us, and I watched the tense set of his shoulders, his head hanging between them, blonde hair glowing a delicate gold in the moonlight. Eventually, he grunted, "I spose." I felt relief flood through me. Derek and Clay were completely different, but at the same time, identical. I knew that if anyone could chip through Clay's hard exterior, it would be Derek, who tried just as hard to block people. I felt a small smile form on my lips, and shook my head at Clay's questioning gaze. "So, what now?" I asked him quietly, gesturing to Derek's limp form, watching his bruised chest rise and fall with his shallow breathing.

Not missing a beat, Clay collected Derek in his arms, and rose swiftly. I tried not to let my jaw drop. Needless to say, I failed. I was snapped out of my wonderment by Clay's gruff twang. "I'm leavin' Blondie. You comin'?" I realised I was still crouched on the floor, and stood hastily, straightening my shirt. Clay was striding down the path impatiently, not giving me a chance to answer. I huffed quietly, cursing my short legs as I chased him. I heard his ghostly chuckles as I caught up to him. He was eyeing me amusedly, and I felt anger stir up inside me. "What?" I asked indignantly. He shook his head, smirking, and generously slowed his pace to allow me to keep up.

We walked in silence for a block, and I waited until we reached the safe glow of a streetlight before talking. "Chloe." My name fell from my mouth before I could stop it. I resisted the urge to cover my mouth. He didn't even break stride. "What about her?" He asked lowly, his mouth twitching, bright blue eyes staring straight ahead resolutely. I swallowed a smile, recalling my earlier words. "I am her." I told him boldly. I saw him grin from the corner of my eye, and swallowed. With all the drama, I had totally forgotten his lack of attire. Crap. I could only pray that Aunt Lauren would be too distracted by his large muscles and charming smile to even question his naked presence. Derek's brother would _have_ to be a nudist, wouldn't he? I shook my head, smiling, imagining Derek's reaction.

Clay walked confidently, with a smooth gait, azure eyes scanning the area ahead of us purposefully. He grinned crookedly, suddenly, shocking me with the feral nature of his smile. I caught a flash of a sharp white canine as his lips pulled back into a wide beam. I blinked. The expression didn't look quite right, as though smiling was foreign to him, and his face wasn't accustomed to it. Examining him, through my shock, I noticed that he was fixed on something. Breaking away from my scrutiny, I turned my head to see a leggy blonde. Her hair was cropped short, and was messy, as though she had run her hands through it several times. She was clad in baggy jeans, and a large, clearly men's, shirt, which swamped her lithe frame. She padded toward us smoothly, her sneakers making soft thuds against the damp sidewalk. Her stormy grey eyes shone, surprising me with their vitality. "Clay." She greeted him happily, experienced eyes quickly assessing the situation. "Are they?" She asked quietly, and Clay nodded, causing her face to relax slightly. Suddenly, she looked somewhat younger, as if a weight had been temporarily lifted from her shoulders. Her eyes met mine, and I was startled by the kindness I found in her gaze. I saw myself through her eyes: Tiny, fragile frame, knotted blonde haystack for hair, innocent child-like blue eyes, ripped clothing and mud smeared across my pale skin. Sympathy washed across her features.

"Chloe, right?" She asked, and I nodded timidly, playing to her expectation of me. I spotted Clay out of the corner of my eye, looking vaguely amused, probably remembering my earlier actions and comparing them to my newfound introvert behaviour. I internally scowled. If she noticed Clay's reaction, she didn't comment on it, instead darting forward to press a hand to Derek's sweaty forehead. He moaned gently as her hand made contact, and I twitched, itching to smack her hand away. My hand jerked at my side, aching to reach out. I kept it firmly against my leg, scolding myself. _There's no need to be so protective, _I reminded myself.

"He'll be fine." She stated, and turned a tender smile on me. Cautiously she reached out a hand towards me. "I'm Elena." She told me. I nodded at her carefully, taking in her pale skin and freckled cheekbones. Warily I touched my hand to hers, barely shaking it before dropping it as though it burned me.

"Right." She faltered, lowering her hand to her hip. "Kit's waiting." She alerted Clay, who nodded sharply, before carrying on down the street. I hurried to catch up, but a warm hand on my shoulder jolted me.

"Hey." She hummed gently. "You okay?" Her question was innocent, but Derek's voice echoed in my mind, reminding me that this woman was still a stranger, no matter how kind she seemed.

I only nodded. Her caring smile wavered, but remained with effort. I wondered absently if she thought I was mute, or stupid. The notion made me smile, and hers brightened, taking it as encouragement. She began walking, so I hurried along beside her, my short legs rushing to match her long strides. I stared enviously at her lengthy limbs as we walked, mentally comparing her six foot frame to my five foot one. I had never felt younger, nor more attractive in my life. I hastily began pulling leaves and dirt from my hair and clothing, attempting to improve my appearance.

"Sounds like you had a rough night." She remarked, her face compassionate, yet her curiosity was evident. I nodded again, and heard her sigh, making me restrain a giggle.

We walked the length of the street in comfortable silence, though I could feel her teeming with questions, even through her calm façade. The journey did not take much time, with her long legs and my desire to get to Derek rushing us. When we made it to the familiar faded red door, I noticed the glow of warm light seep through the gap in the hastily drawn plaid curtains, and realised that Kit must be awake. I reached for the door, but a pale arm swooped down over my head, pushing the wood lightly, causing it to swing open with a muted creak. Elena's hand nudged the door open gently, and ushered me inside. I moved slowly, the shock and lack of sleep catching up to me. I trudged down the hallway, slipping my muddy sneakers off carelessly, my wet socks squeaking against the polished wood. I heard Elena shadowing me, but I kept moving forward, too tired to care. Some part of my mind registered the loud ticking of the clock, and the fact that it must be nearer to morning than I thought. Hollowly, I wandered into the small cosy living room, following the low murmurs. I heard the voices stop as I entered the room, and suddenly Kit was there. "Chloe." He hugged me to him, and I relaxed in his familiar embrace. Kit was more of a father to me than my own. Biologically, he was not my father, nor was he legally, but he was there throughout my life, to patch up my scrapes, dry my tears and take me to the park. The majority of my childhood memories revolved around this family, and I felt tears spring to my eyes as I clutched him closer, inhaling the comforting scent of leather and ink, the kind he used in his paperwork as a lawyer. He whispered soothing words to me as we rocked gently in the doorway. I felt Elena sweep gently past me and approach Clay, who greeted her with a tight hug and a tender brush of the lips. I broke out of Kit's embrace however, spotting Derek lying on the battered couch. I crouched beside him, taking one of his large warm hands in both of my own. The rest of the world melted away as I watched his sleeping face. He looked relaxed, yet vulnerable, and I made myself a silent oath that I would not leave him in his time of need. Leaning forward, my hair brushing his collarbone, I placed a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

Moving back, I felt his hand wrench from mine. I gasped at the sudden movement, as he swiftly wound it around my waist, lifting me to him, and pulling me closer. I curled up beside him, forgetting our audience, as he returned the gesture, his warm breath making me tremble, his cracked lips softly pressing to my cheek. "Stay." He grunted sleepily, his eyes remaining closed as he surrendered to sleep. Nestling contentedly into his side, I sighed happily, blissfully unaware of my surroundings until I heard Kit murmur, "Night kids." A flurry of footsteps, the gentle thud of the door closing, and we were alone.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey guys!**

**I changed the last chapter slightly, nothing major, I think it just makes for smoother reading now (:**

**A few of you keep asking if they are all supernatural, or if it's just Derek, and my answer is yes, they all are, but they do not know it yet. If I recall, Chloe doesn't come into her powers until she receives a certain womanly gift soooo... yeah. **

**The first part of this chapter is a dream, I figured like in the book, as Chloe has a creepy ass dream the night before she comes into her powers. (:**

**Anyways, enjoy.**

**~Wallie**

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><p>"<em>Why?<em>"

A hoarse voice croaked at me from the darkness, filled with enough pain and sadness that it hit me like a wrecking ball, and I cringed away from it, curling into myself.

The smell that hit me was putrid, and I imagined wet earth, and something rotting. I wrinkled my nose, and opened my eyes. The shadows burned my retinas, and I immediately shut them, tears leaking out and trailing down my face, burning my cool skin, leaving a fiery path. My arms tingled as rush of cold air swept over me, making me shiver uncontrollably and goose bumps raise on my skin.

The darkness was thick, and black, swirling around me like a heavy midnight blanket. I could feel it suffocating and smothering me, as I sobbed into nothingness.

"I'm s-sorry. S-s-sorry." I repeatedly stammered incoherently into my knees, wishing away the enigmatic shadows, trying to ignore the pain and sorrow that stabbed at me like a thousand tiny knives. I felt as though I had been ripped away from my body, as though my skin was being stretched from my bones, my brain being tugged in several different directions. Agony was all I knew, all I could feel. I wanted to die, if dying would end this grief.

"_You feeeeel that?" _A voice hissed, and I heard the rattles of the creature's shaky breathing. I nodded desperately, cradling my skull within my hands, convinced that if I moved my hands away, my brain would fracture and my skull would break apart. The pain shot through me repeatedly and I cried. I cried out for my mom. The one I needed more than anything. Worse than the pain, was the crashing realisation that my mother wouldn't be coming to help me. I was alone all over again.

Keeping one hand tightly pressed to my head, I reached my hand out, grabbing frantically at air. A low mocking laugh sounded.

"_Chlooee…" _

I sobbed louder, ducking my head as the creature's breath brushed my hair, a cold breeze whispered along my neck.

"_Chlooee." _

A ghostly laugh echoed along my spine. I whimpered in response, thrashing away from the creature's rancid breath and chilly embrace.

"Chloe."

With a jolt I slammed awake and found myself buried within a comforting warmth. I inhaled deeply, smelling wet earth, but above it all, the familiar combination of pine and cinnamon. Derek. I clutched tightly at the warmth surrounding me, and realised I was sobbing, effectively soaking the front of his dirty shirt. He was holding me gently in the safe cradle of his arms, and I found myself gasping into his chest, gulping in his reassuring scent. "Chloe." His low voice repeated, gruff from sleep, sent shivers down my spine.

"It w-was just-t a d-dream." I stuttered, cursing my childhood habit that I thought I had effectively kicked. "Breathe." He murmured into my hair, stroking my shaking shoulders gently. I nodded into his chest, calming myself, my death grip on his shirt loosening as the gentle heat of his body melted away the cold remnants of my terrifying dream.

"You wanna talk about it?" He asked me quietly, yawning sweetly into my inevitable bed head. I moved back to look at him, but stayed safely in his arms, still shaken. He was blearily blinking away sleep, his mouth set into a concerned line, his dark hair ruffled and sticking up at the side. He looked adorable.

I shook my head. "Nah." My voice was rough from a mixture of sleep and tears. I cleared my throat gently, not wanting to shatter the delicate atmosphere. "Maybe later." He nodded, emerald eyes searching my face uneasily. Hesitantly, he brought one hand up from my waist to cup my cheek, searing my icy skin. I leaned into his touch, and his thumb gently traced the tear tracks marking my cheeks.

The soft glow of early morning seeped through the gap in the curtains, illuminating his right cheekbone and highlighting the blue-black splotches decorating the skin there. I brought my own hand up to mirror his, and he winced lightly as my hand made contact.

"Sorry." I whispered tenderly, slowly moving to straddle his lap. His eyes never left mine, the green sparking as he stared, like I was an algorithm he was eager to solve. My hand slid gently up his cheek and into his hair, smoothing the unruly mess. His hair was soft and fluffy, rather than lank and greasy as it usually was before his routine shower. I traced the blossoming bruise, a stark contrast against his pale skin, as my eyes sought out other subtle changes. He looked healthier, cleaner. His skin was clearer, his acne lessening. His arm tightened around me, and I felt the hard muscles clench. I felt safe.

"I was so worried about you." I whispered quietly, staring at a stubborn piece of his hair rather than at his face, as though I was admitting some great weakness. I felt fresh tears spring to my eyes, and blinked them back. "I'm okay." He soothed me, his hand rubbing loving circles on the bare skin of my hip, caressing, the other tangled in my hair.

I smiled slightly, my hand running along his strong jaw line, and he hummed in contentment at my light touch, his eyes flickering shut. Gently, I leaned forward, my hand ghosting down his neck to rest on his shoulder, I swept my lips carefully over his jaw. Leaning back slightly, I saw his lips twitch up into a small smile, completely at ease. Seeing this spurred me on, and I brushed my lips up his neck, pausing to press a tender kiss to his pulse point. I felt him growl slightly beneath me, his body vibrating as the low sound rumbled up his throat. "What?" I murmured throatily, shyly against his skin. I skimmed my nose along his jaw, before dropping an affectionate kiss against his warm, chapped lips. He tensed, briefly, as though hesitant to respond, and I began to pull away. With a short growl, his hand tugged my mouth back to his, and I felt the familiar pressure of his lips on mine. My heart jumped as his tongue snaked out to rub my lower lip, and a surge of passion and belonging filled me. Unable to control myself, I fisted a handful of Derek's shirt, pressing firmly against him, the hard lines of his body fitting against me like a jigsaw. I nipped his bottom lip, and the kiss deepened, as he gasped in surprise.

I let the kiss consume me, fire and passion driving my body as I writhed against Derek. My thoughts melted away, and nothing else mattered. The perfection shattered when the door slammed shut, the sound echoing harshly in the silent room. I froze against Derek's lips, our noses touching, our ragged breathing the only noise I could hear. He ducked his head, and his warm breath made goose bumps rise on my neck.

"Oops." Simon stated flatly, standing by the closed door, his face cold and harsh.

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><p><strong>Whatcha think? Please review or PM me (: I love feedback.<strong>

**Also, I'm starting a small Harry Potter story, so head on over and check that out? No one has read it yet, (FF is a big place) :P I may not continue it, but at least let me know what you think, please. (:**

**Thanks. (:**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi! I'm not sure about this chapter, but I enjoyed writing it, especially towards the end (:**

**Let me know what you think!**

**Also for those of you wondering, I will update my 'Reading' stories soon, but lately writing this story has helped me with a lot of the stress I've had. I prefer the freedom of this story, although it's less popular (:**

**~Wallie**

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><p>Derek jerked as though I had doused him in frigid water, and I fell sideways onto the couch, smacking my knee against the wooden coffee table.<p>

"Ow, shit." I hissed, clutching my knee, cheeks burning with mortification. I looked up, tears stinging my eyes, and saw that Simon had retreated, the door left hanging open. I moved my gaze back to Derek, unsure of what I would find there. Anger? Embarrassment? I didn't know. Instead I saw him staring at the space Simon had previously occupied, his face perfectly blank. The warm, smiling, carefree Derek that had held me comfortingly this morning was gone, and in his place was this Derek: zombie-like, emotionless and harsh.

"Derek…" I spoke softly and hauled myself upright, reaching a reassuring hand out to rest on his knee and ignoring the stinging pain in my own. He wrenched away from my touch, as if it sent a shock through him. The jolt that this action sent through my heart hurt more than any injury I could ever get from a piece of furniture.

"Derek." I whispered thickly, and he turned his head away.

"Shower." He grunted quietly and rushed to the doorway. I dropped my head into my hands and inhaled deeply, massaging my throbbing brow with aching hands.

All the comfort that I had found in Derek had evaporated instantly, leaving me cold and hurting, curled up on the small couch, to wallow in my own sorrow. Last night's events were catching up to me in a flood of memories and panic. My sore limbs and the blotchy bruises, decorating my ivory skin and frail limbs, illustrated the night perfectly. I shuddered at the memory of the two men, and my arm jerked, as if recalling Liam's menacing touch. The panic melted away as my breathing calmed, and I remembered that I was safe now, but it gave way to confusion. Derek, though reverting back to his anti-social self, or suffering from some form of personality disorder, seemed perfectly fine now. What had happened last night?

I recalled his quivering limbs uneasily, remembering the macabre shapes his twisting bones had formed, the sinister dance of his muscles changing shape. For a moment my mind flitted back to my dream, and I wondered if the strange memory was just another part of the dream. Immediately though, I dismissed the thought; I had to admit, my imagination wasn't that good. Besides, the fact that Derek and I were both coated in bruises authenticated the event. Great. On one hand, it was great that my subconscious hadn't gone on a psychotic rampage, but on the other, I had no way to explain what I had seen. _There is one way_, my mind whispered, but I nudged it away. Werewolves, and all other supernatural creatures for that matter, belong firmly in Hollywood. Anyway, surely I would know if my best friend were one? I didn't know.

I don't know how long I sat there until my musings were interrupted by Tori barrelling in and almost squashing me.

"OMG." She squealed breathlessly, and I cocked my head at her. She looked like she had rolled right out of bed and charged in here. Her short black hair was in a messy ponytail, chunks of hair falling around her face. Impatiently she tucked it behind her ear, only for it to flop forward again as she bounced. Her eyes were wide and excited, and I could tell she was about to explode in a ball of exhilaration. I attempted cocking an eyebrow at her, essentially pressing the big red button for detonation. She swiped quickly at the hair in her face, drawing her bare legs under her and pulling in a large gulp of air.

I waited for the onslaught of incoherent babble, but instead she whispered another breathless "OMG" into my face. I carried on staring, wanting an explanation. She straightened, and her face settled into a sombre expression, as if it were a matter of great importance. Placing her palms flat on her thighs, she leaned forward conspiratorially. "Okay, so I got up, right?" I nodded at her dubiously, not in the mood for her babble, but at the same time wondering what had got her so wound up before noon. Usually she looked like a character from a zombie film in the morning, and occasionally acted like it. Simon used to make jokes on our walk to school about Tori ditching breakfast and lunging over the breakfast table for his brains instead. I smiled at the memory, which Tori took as encouragement. Before I could say anything else, she launched back into her story.

"I was walking into the kitchen, when…" She paused for dramatic emphasis, and mimed a drum roll, "I saw _the _hottest guy at our table, eating _my _cereal."

"Your cereal?"

"No one touches my Lucky Charms."

I rolled my eyes. "We want to keep major body parts, that's why."

"Chloe, I doubt I could dismember that _god." _She spoke reverently, and I worked to withhold a chuckle. Memories of last night flashed through my mind.

"Wait, blonde hair?"

She nodded eagerly. "And _amazingly _luscious blue eyes, and biceps that could probably crush a car, and-"

I blocked out her tirade, my attention now fixed on the doorway. I bit my twitching lip, as I tried furiously not to laugh. Tori was still talking.

"-ohmygod I bet he's smart too, I wonder what he does? And-"

"Hi Clay." I cut over Tori, and she choked mid-sentence. Her face paled, and her jaw hung wide. She eyed me suspiciously, as though speculating if I was serious, until a southern twang sounded behind her.

"Hi there, blondie. Y'all feeling better?"

I nodded, not trusting my mouth to contain my laughter. Tori's beet-red face betrayed her as she turned to welcome him. "H-hi." She stuttered, her voice an octave higher than normal. Tori was never nervous, and I mentally congratulated Clay. He wasn't looking at her however, his eyes fixed on my twitching face. I was pretty sure I was near purple with my Herculean effort to keep quiet. I saw mirth flash in his eyes, and I knew that he had heard the majority, if not all, of her speech.

"Good." He smiled at me, flaunting a dazzling white grin. I heard Tori stop breathing next to me. Clay turned to address her, "You're Kit's gal, right?"

She nodded enthusiastically, ponytail bobbing, and more hair coming loose to fall in her face. She huffed in annoyance, and pushed it out of her face, a bright smile on display.

"Sorry bout the Lucky Charms, darlin'" He told her, an apologetic smile gracing his face. "I didn't realise you'd staked ya claim."

She gave a small squeal, "It's okay," She babbled, "I mean," She paused, composing herself, "I don't mind sharing." She smiled angelically up at the golden haired man. He gave a hesitant grin back, and hers melted into a seductive smirk. The smile dropped off of his face immediately, and he turned for the door.

"Oh, and I'm a professor." He called over his shoulder, and I imagined him smirking.

Tori's grin vanished immediately, and her face flushed with chagrin, realising that he had heard everything. She held her head haughtily, and told me, "I'm going for a shower. I would advise you found one, too." Her nose wrinkled in disgust, and I registered that I was still wearing my dirt-encrusted clothes from last night. She fingered the rip in my shirt speculatively, her slender fingers scraping muck from my clothing. "Ugh." She stated, before pushing herself up and heading for the door.

I stretched cautiously, the stiffness in my arms and legs becoming apparent. I turned my head, and my neck gave a twinge in protest.

Ignoring my body's objections to movement in general, I stood with a heavy sigh and mumbled curses, making for the nearest shower, planning on remaining there for the foreseeable future, or at least until my life started to make sense. _Yeah, _a small voice in my head murmured, _as if it ever will._

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><p><strong>Kay, so that's it (:<strong>

**Please review or PM me, feedback is GREAT. (:**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi guys.**

**I'm afraid I'm going to put all of my stories on hiatus.**

**APRIL FOOLS.**

**I really hope half of you haven't buggered off by now. xD**

**Please enjoy my stories that will NOT be on hiatus, EVER. kay?**

**~Wallie**

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><p>Once I had eagerly showered and grudgingly descended into the kitchen, I discovered that Clay and Elena weren't too keen on sticking around.<p>

We all stood around the large oak table, bleary eyed and hungry, waiting for Elena to talk.

"We were here to keep Derek safe." Elena explained to the group of us gently, as Clay watched on impassively. "Being Jeremy's son, he would make a good… bargaining chip, so to speak."

We stared silently. "Mafia!" Simon blurted, before hastily quieting under Clay's stony gaze.

"If I'm in danger," Derek asked, "Then why aren't you?" He gestured to Clay, who was leaning against the counter leisurely, although his posture was defensive. He was also eyeing up the contents of the fruit bowl, despite the fact that he had eaten his breakfast less than an hour ago. When Derek asked his question, Clay barked a harsh laugh, but there was no humour present. When he turned to face us, his expression was dark and shadowed. "Kid, I've done plenty I ain't proud of. But it's kept my family safe. Nobody would dare cross me."

Watching him stand boldly before us, all muscles and ferocity, I didn't doubt him one bit. He burned us with his azure gaze, sweeping over each of us with a subtle threat.

_You know what I am capable of. Don't cross me._

I swallowed nervously, and could practically sense Tori melting into a puddle of girl hormones by the refrigerator. Glancing around the small yellow kitchen, I noticed Derek's belligerent stance, and stubborn expression. He always wanted answers; When we were kids he was always conducting insane experiments in order to answer peculiar questions, such as 'How much dirt can Simon eat before his diabetes kicks in?" That one wasn't so successful, now that I recall.

Simon was eyeing Clay curiously, although trying to be casual, folding his arms and leaning against the wall beside Derek, mimicking Clay. Suddenly, another piece of Derek trivia sprang to mind: _If you imitate someone's body language, they should feel more comfortable and less defensive. _It was, unfortunately, something Derek knew a lot about, having struggled to fit in at our school, and usually having to resort to tactics such as this to make up for his sheer size and brooding looks. I was pretty certain that Simon copied Clay unconsciously, ineffectually attempting nonchalance rather than knowing this little gem of information. I mean, why would he ever need to know it? Simon could charm a brick wall into submission.

The silence filling the kitchen was electric. We all watched each other, waiting for the other to speak. Throughout this, Derek scrutinised Clay's face and posture, assessing him and, to my surprise Clay was reciprocating, cerulean eyes scanning Derek's features expertly. The situation was getting unbelievably tense as they stared, and I could almost feel static in the air. The spell was broken suddenly, with an abrupt chirp of a generic ring tone.

Elena bounced at the kitchen table, hand going straight to her jean pocket. Sliding a sleek cell phone from the denim, the ringing increased in intensity. Smiling apologetically, she held up one finger and motioned towards exit, before padding into the garden, and pulling the door gently behind her. I heard the ringing stop, and Elena's voice chime a greeting, before the door snapped closed, and the speech faded.

Clay's hand was splayed across the wooden back door. "I think she'd like some privacy." He stated bluntly, his gaze shifting from Derek to me suspiciously.

I nodded, and the kitchen fell into silence once again. Kit cleared his throat nervously.

"I spoke to Clay and Elena earlier, and it was decided that Chloe and Derek would travel with them to stay with Jeremy."

He paused then, expecting an onslaught of complaints. Simon only shrugged however. Personally, I think he was rather intimidated by Clay, eyeing his bulging biceps with slight nervousness and envy. I knew Simon would never be built like that; he was wiry, like his father. Derek however, could easily measure up to Clay's muscular physique. Tori seemed to be a little occupied drooling over the blond hunk, although I was sure that once he had left and she had regained the use of her brain, she would have plenty to say on the topic of being left behind.

Suddenly, Clay's head swung to the door, as did Derek's, I noticed. Clay spoke brusquely, "I'll be right back." He marched to the back door, swinging it shut behind him. Kit tensed against the counter, anticipating Tori's protests. And protest she did.

"Daaaaad." She whinged, batting her dark eyes dramatically.

"Tori-" He started, but she cut him off, ditching the cute act and going straight for the jugular. "It's not _fair_! How come they get to go and I don't? I mean-"

Kit cut her off with a sharp look and a tap against the table.

"Tori, we will follow in a few days. I have to clear it with your mother first."

"But-"

"I only have custody of you for this week. I really don't want to come home and be faced with kidnapping charges. We clear?"

She nodded mutely, her mouth set in a firm line of disapproval. Tori hated her mother, even though she had full custody of her. I didn't know the full story: I assumed Tori was the product of a drunken night and lack of birth control. Honestly, I couldn't imagine Diane Enright getting drunk and doing something stupid, and I really didn't want to. Tori's mother was strict and harsh, traits that Tori had picked up. I loved her to pieces, but sometimes she could be frank and, well, bitchy. Her mother was always well-groomed and immaculate, something that she expected of her daughter. Tori didn't like her mother at the best of times; She was manipulative and uncaring. But what really sealed the deal was Tori's discovery of her lineage. She had been raised to believe her mother's husband was her father, so when Kit raced onto the scene, having discovered his daughter, Tori was distraught. She was close to the man she had once called 'Dad', and I knew that at the tender age of seven, it was difficult to grow close to a stranger.

She was suddenly no longer an only child, and found herself lumbered with two brothers a similar age: a young girl's worst nightmare. So she latched onto me. I had been coming over for years; My aunt always works weird shifts at the hospital, leaving Kit to baby-sit. I'm sure that I must have been somewhat of a disappointment to Tori; I had no interest in playing dress-up, or pretending to be princesses, or even rifling through my aunt's make up box: a treasure chest for Tori.

I preferred to make mud pies with the boys, or draw pictures of aliens, and chase each other around the yard. It took Tori some time to come to terms with the fact that the only other girl, her supposed saviour, was in fact not much of a girl, but she got over it. As we got older, she would ramble to me about her crushes and her different magazines, while I in turn would gush about new movies and the new drawings Simon and I had come up with. As the years went on, I spent more time with Derek, but always made space for Tori. She would chat to me about her new computer programming interest, and suggest different software I could use for my editing. We would also go see movies together, ones I had been dying to see but had been dubbed 'too girly' and therefore exceedingly dangerous by the boys. Besides, it was hard to watch films with the guys; Derek would sit and point out all the logic flaws in the plot and characterisation, and Simon would laugh obnoxiously, while fidgeting relentlessly, getting up every five minutes for popcorn, or soda, or nature calling.

So, even though Tori and I were never really close, we were always friends of sorts. I knew that she would never rat me out, and if I needed her then she would be there.

Watching her right now, I saw the realisation come crashing down on her features as she grasped that she would be going home to her mother, and that she might not be allowed to come away with us. I also saw the steel glint of determination flash in her eyes, as she clenched her fist and stormed from the room.

So, being the friend I vowed I would be in return, I followed her.

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><p><strong>God, i'm an awful person.<strong>

**This chapter kinda sucks, I think. I wrote it in pieces, rather than in one whole go, like I usually do.**

**Oh well, I'm happy, cos I have me a new boyfriend (;**

**Anyways please review! Thanks.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys, **

**SORRY IT'S BEEN AGES. I have exams. This is literally the only spare moment I've had. Sigh. I also haven't checked it, at all. Hasn't even had a read-through, which should tell you how much time I have :P**

**If you spot any mistakes, please let me know, and it may not be up to scratch, so please FORGIVE ME. Tah.**

**For everyone who was asking why Chloe was going with Derek and Claylena, it's cos they want to question her on what she saw, and explain it to her. Also, Kit has to stay behind to get permission from Tori's mum, so Simon would stay as well. They'll follow quickly. (:**

**Blah,blah,blah, without further rubbish, ENJOY. (:**

**~Wallie**

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><p>"<em>You're going to come across people in your life who will say all the right words at all the right times. But in the end, it's always their actions you should judge them by. It's actions, not words, that matter." <em>

Before my mom died, that was her mantra. She was a kind and charitable person, but saw no pleasantries in false words, instead preferring to bake a cake for an injured neighbour or lend a hand around the house. The smell of freshly baked blueberry muffins floated around my memories, a ghostly reminder. Keeping her words in mind, I tapped hesitantly on the wooden door, I approached Tori's hunched figure cautiously. She brought her head up suddenly, and I recoiled, as though she had physically zapped me. Her watery eyes searched my face as I sat beside her silently, not watching her, instead keeping my eyes on her window, and the neat line of china figures, grins frozen in time. When I chanced a glance sideways, her eyes hardened into a steely grey, and her head swung to the window. We fell into silence, the kind of silence that made me imagine a hunter stealthily waiting for his prey.

"I don't need your sympathy." Her harsh voice cut through the silence, a muted version of her normal self. I waited a moment, measuring my response before I gave it. Tori could act like a rabid animal, and her bark was usually as bad as her bite.

"I know." I answered softly, my fingers occupied with the hem of my shirt, winding it deftly around my fingers. Her weight shifted as she uncrossed her legs and brought her knees up to her face, hugging her legs to her body. Silence descended again. Recalling my mother's words, I didn't speak again, but I didn't touch her either. Touching Tori in this state could be lethal. Instead I sat beside her, a true indication of the strength of our friendship: someone less acquainted with Tori may have wrapped an arm around her and smothered her with meaningless and sympathetic words. Sitting in the silence, watching the dappled sunlight cast swaying shadows on her lilac bedspread, I knew that my silent company meant a lot more to her than she let on.

"Then why are you here?" She mumbled into her bare knees, fingers rubbing her pale skin softly. I shuffled closer and bumped her gently with my hip. "Girls gotta stick together, right?" I smiled slightly, quoting what she had chirped to me several years ago, during our awkward forced friendship stage. I saw her crack a smile through a gap in the cradle her arms made, her head turned towards me.

"You dork." She giggled slightly into her forearm, making me grin wider.

"I learned from the best." I joked, and she snorted, her shaggy black hair bouncing. "True." She conceded, flashing me a perfectly white smile.

She leant over me and pulled a small bottle of black nail polish from her bedside table. Jiggling it teasingly, she asked, "Is today my lucky day, or do I have to cry some more?" Rolling my eyes I crossed my legs under me and laid my hands on her knees, wincing slightly at the sharp scent of nail polish wafting under my nose. "Black?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. Black always washed me out. "Yes Saunders, black." She confirmed, the small brush gliding carefully over my index nail, leaving a smooth inky covering. "Like my soul." She continued, her voice merging into a facsimile of Dracula. I giggled, and let her continue her work. Makeovers, no matter how small, never failed to cheer her up. "Anyways, black is sexy." She winked at me, and I felt a blush stain my cheeks. "Shutup." I muttered, rolling my eyes and poking her with my toe. She squealed, and a black mark stained my finger. Cursing, she hopped up to grab a tissue. "Quit ruining my masterpieces." She scolded, smirking.

"Maybe when I'm no longer your canvas." I shot back, returning her smirk with a hesitant grin. Her smirk melted into a smile, and she continued painting in silence.

She decorated a whole hand in silence, before she opened her mouth, pausing slightly. I cocked my head at her, waiting. Eventually, she spoke. "Thanks, Chloe." She said carefully, as though testing the unfamiliar words in her mouth. Holding back a smile, I replied. "That's what friends do, right?" She nodded slowly, and her lips twitched as she resumed her torture on my other hand.

"Your mom will let you go, you know." I spoke more confidently now. She hesitated, dipping the tiny brush back into the pot.

"Maybe." She murmured, finishing my thumb, and screwing the lid tightly onto the pot. "Maybe not." I watched her as she slid the nail polish back onto her side table, and retied her messy hair into a tight ponytail. As she resettled onto the bed, I spotted her cell phone lying on the comforter. "Well," I scooped up the small object and flipped it open, scrolling through her contacts quickly. "You never know." I spoke softly, slipping the phone onto her lap, and leaving the room.

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><p>Down in the living room, Derek and Simon had commandeered the games console. They were playing in silence, the screaming of civilians and guns firing rapidly the only noises filling the room, save the occasional grunt from each boy. They're thumbs and fingers worked swiftly over the controls, a strange fierceness behind their actions, rather than the usual jokiness that surrounded their games. I hovered in the doorway, watching their intense expressions, and the violence of their attacks on each other; their characters on screen had abandoned zombie killing and were now attempting to hack each other to pieces. There was none of their usual camaraderie, instead it was replaced with unusual animosity. Was this my fault?<p>

Derek was the first to notice me, his eyes flickering to the doorway every few seconds, before he grunted in acknowledgement. Simon took a while longer, being less perceptive, but noticing his brother relenting with his vicious attacks. When his eyes found me at the doorway, he immediately paused the game, smiling falsely at me. "Hey Chloe." He said brightly, hands clenched around the small controller as he waved it in my direction. Derek kept his gaze on the frozen screen, as though he was watching something no one else could see. "Hi." I said dully, eyes on Derek's motionless figure. "Wanna play?" Simon offered, his eyes moving between Derek and I nervously, trying to figure out the situation. He raised the controller as I moved into the room.

"Sure." I replied uncertainly, slipping into the gap between the two boys. As though I had caused a wave, both boys moved at the same time, shifting away from me. I wiggled, getting comfortable in the seat, and Derek leapt to his feet, dropping the controller into my lap. "Hungry." He grunted, before lumbering through the doorway. "Coward." Simon muttered, before pulling a bright smile onto his face, "I gotta go check my blood sugar." He told me, still smiling falsely, abandoning his own controller, and moving to the doorway.

"Okay." I murmured, fiddling with the bumpers on the remote. Gingerly I lifted my shirt to my face and took a whiff. Shrugging to myself, I sank down into the cushions, collapsing onto my back and lifting one to cover my face. Breathing slowly into the soft material, I inhaled the familiar scent and let my mind roam.

Cautious footsteps thudded against the hardwood floor, and a rumbling cough sounded. Sliding the cushion away from my face, I squinted above me. Derek loomed over me , concern clouding his features. "Can I help you?" I asked dully, although the effect was ruined by my drowsy manner. He only stared, emerald eyes penetrating my own. I was beginning to feel self-conscious, "Derek-"

He cut me off, "We leave at three." He tossed a sports bag onto the end of the couch, where it weighed down on my feet. I kicked it lightly and it fell to the floor.

"And this is?" I asked, skimming the strap with my toe.

"I figured you'd need to borrow a bag."

I threw a glare at him, "I have luggage."

He threw one right back. "Yes, luggage. Great big suitcases. We're going in a car, Chlo. You do the math."

My glare grew in ferocity, but I doubt he noticed.

"I'm not as bad as Tori." I defended myself, and he snorted.

"You're a small person, how much stuff do you need?" He questioned.

"You always bring up my height."

"I do."

I stood on the couch, so that I stood a good inch over Derek, my nose hovering by his eyes. I glared ferociously at his forehead. This close to him, I could smell his achingly familiary scent. It hurt my heart.

"I like my height."

"No, you don't."

I hated it when he was right. His lips twitched at the annoyance I'm sure was apparent on my face. That set me over the edge.

"Fine." I huffed, prodding his chest and jumping down, scooping up the sports bag as I went. As I stormed out the room, I heard a low chuckle from behind me. _Jackass._

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><p><strong>Thanks guys! Hope you liked it, please review (:<strong>


	14. Chapter 14

****Sorry for the shortness of this chapter, it is embarrassingly short, but as I said, EXAMS. And I'd rather give you something to move the story along and tide you over. So here it is (: ~Wallie ****

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><p>Patience wearing thin, I stared determinedly at the stuffed sports bag at my feet. The strap was pulled taut, having been dragged slowly along the tarmac, and the zip looked ready to burst. I kicked the heavy bag with the toe of my scuffed sneaker, exhaling in frustration. A low whistle sounded from my left. Clay was leaning nonchalantly against the white fence, arms crossed, eyes fixed on my luggage. "Think ya got enough stuff there?" He asked me solemnly, azure eyes glittering in amusement.<p>

"No." I replied, equally sober. I eyed the compact car boot speculatively, before dropping my gaze to the bag. "You need a bigger car." I informed him, lips twitching. He eyed me gravely, blue eyes assessing me. Finally his lip curved slightly, as he replied, "You need less crap, Blondie." The whistling resumed as I huffed. Pushing my hair away from my rapidly sweaty face, I yanked on the strap of the bag. It rose an inch as I grunted, before giving up and dumping it on my feet. I moaned quietly in aggravation.

"Y'know, you sound like Chewbacca."

I turned to find Simon smiling at me. "Well, great." I moaned, pulling the bag strap from side to side. "You want some help?"

He flashed a charming smile as he moved forward to pull the strap from my grip.

"Okay, but be careful, it's-"

"Chloe, please. I'm a man."

He winked, hefting the strap onto his arm and straightening up. He exhaled sharply, dropping the bag back onto the tarmac with a thump. Cursing harshly, he turned to me. "I wasn't aware you needed to take _bricks_."

I shrugged, before poking his bicep. "What happened to being a _man_." I mocked, with holding a giggle. He straightened up again.

"I am a man. But I'll let Derek deal with this."

"Sure." I drawled, taking the strap from him. "I get it. The damsel can sort her own crap out. No worries."

"Glad we've got that covered." He joked, stepping away from the car. "Anyway, I got you something." He fumbled awkwardly in the back pocket of his jeans before extracting a folded piece of paper. He unclenched my hand, forcing me to release the bag strap and replacing it with the paper. "It's not much. Just a small drawing." A quirk of the lips, as he carefully appraised my face.

"Anyhow, have a good journey, okay? We'll be right behind you."

My arm hooked through the strap limiting my movement, I leaned towards him for a brief embrace. "Bye." I murmured.

"Don't get into too much trouble." He winked, spinning on his heel and walked back into the house.

"Good friend?" A rumble sounded behind me, making me jump.

"Yeah." I mumbled, as Clay grabbed the strap from me, easily hoisting the heavy bag into the small space. I watched in astonishment as he pushed it further into the compartment. "Got everything?" Elena's voice rang out as she padded down the path, smiling at me gently. Clay's arm shot out and grabbed her small blue backpack, pushing it into the boot alongside my own luggage. She shot him a reprimanding look.

"I can do it myself." She reminded him, grinning. "I know you can." He grinned back, looking childish and proud.

Feeling as though I was intruding, I coughed awkwardly. Even though I'd only known Clay and Elena for a mere few days, their love for each other was obvious. Clay watched her in adoration, and she tolerated his blunt attitude. Being around them was suffocating; it was impossible to escape, their love seemed to be a force of its own.

A bang sounded from my left as the car boot slammed closed. Derek hovered beside me, clearly anxious to get into the small car and go.

"Ready, Derek?" Elena asked, a kind smile plastered onto her face. He gave her a sharp nod, jaw tense and eyes blazing with nerves.

"Call me when you stop for gas." Kit told his son, clapping him on the shoulder and smiling tensely. Turning to Clay, he motioned towards the bonnet of the vehicle.

Nodding tersely, they strode to the front of the car and began talking quietly, Kit using sharp hand motions. "Is everything okay?" I asked anxiously, watching Kit's face contort in anxiety and confusion.

Elena hummed, her head cocked and eyebrows furrowed, "It's fine." She comforted, not convincingly. "Let's get going." She motioned to the car door, striding forward and pulling it open.

"Um…" Was all I could get out, before I was guided forward by a large hand on my arm. Derek steered me to the door, and I ducked inside.

Scooting along the seat, I peered out of the windshield, only to see Kit storming into the house, pausing only to throw up a calm mask and wave goodbye. Hesitantly waving back, I was surprised when Clay slammed the car door, positioning himself behind the steering wheel. Cursing quietly, he murmured, "I hate these things."

I could see why, I was the smallest one in the tiny car. Derek's head touched the roof, as did Clay's, and Elena had curled her legs up in an attempt to conserve space.

"Me too," Elena grumbled, "But it's only for a little while."

He grunted in response, and started the engine. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Derek's hand tapping a nervous rhythm on his thigh; I knew he hated being trapped in cars. I reached out to comfort him, but on second thought, withdrew contact. This was going to be a long ride.

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><p><strong><strong><strong>Thanks for reading (: Please review!<strong>****


	15. Chapter 15

**SORRY, it's been a while. But I have been busy with zilch creativity. **

**Also, it's my birthday tomorrow :D It's a big one as well. Woo.  
><strong>

**Off out with mates in a bit, so I'll just leave this here for you guys..  
><strong>

**~Wallie  
><strong>

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><p>The car rumbled along, the smooth whir of the engine a pleasant soundtrack, filling in the long and awkward silence. I tangled my fingers together on my lap, my nails tapping out an obscure rhythm, clashing together persistently. My inner ramblings were broken by a large hand reaching over and grabbing mine, peeling my fingers away. Looking up in confusion, a pair of irritated emerald eyes met mine. "Don't." He muttered, releasing my wrist. It took me a moment to comprehend what he meant, and it's only when I resumed tapping and a sharp look was thrown my way, that I understood. "Sorry." I mouthed, curling my fingers into fists, balling them up on my lap. A grunt in response.<p>

Another fifteen minutes passed in awkward silence, until Elena reached out to grab the knob of the radio. "Music?" She asked, her voice falsely optimistic. We nodded obediently, absently, and tinny music erupted from the plastic speakers. She twisted the dial, and fuzzy static screeched obnoxiously, drowning out the crooning voices of a girl band. We all winced, Clay even taking one hand off the steering wheel to smack the buttons. After a moment of garbled voices, it settled on a quiet melody, the guitar softly playing. "Piece o'shit." He muttered, clenching the steering wheel as we turned onto the freeway.

Ten minutes later we hit a truck stop, and Clay pulled in, bringing the car to an abrupt halt. "Gas." He told Elena, gesturing for his wallet. She reached deep into her jean pocket, pulling out a couple of screwed up notes. "Got it." She smiled sweetly at him, "You fill, I'll pay." She turned to us, "Derek, I bet you're hungry. I know I am." He nodded shortly at her, and she flashed me a smile. "Chloe, you wanna come with me?"

I nodded, smiling shyly, eager to stretch my legs. Opening the door, I saw Elena lean towards Derek and mutter something. He bobbed his head and pulled his door open, ducking his head as he stepped out.

Following Elena into the small gas station, I felt severely short and clumsy, if only because my natural stance was emphasised by her willowy frame and loping movements. I stumbled behind her as she stormed into the small building, determined in her search for sustenance. I threw a shy smile to the foreign guy working the checkout, who was resting his head on one hand and rearranging packets of mints with the other.

I turned my head back to Elena, who was grabbing family sized packets of crisps and loaves of bread. I blinked in astonishment, accepting the two substantially large loaves she shoved into my arms. I turned my head to peer out of the window. Light rain was beginning to fall, spattering the sidewalk carelessly. Our car sat by the pump, only distinguishable by its size and colour: an abhorrent pillar-box red. Derek and Clay were nowhere to be found. I strayed closer to the thin window, eyes searching the surroundings. To the left of the station was the wide road, the occasional car speeding past, and encompassing it were bushes and trees. The same bushes and trees, I realised, that had dotted the side of the road for the past half mile.

"They've probably gone for a walk." I jumped, turning to face Elena. She smiled tensely, practically a grimace. "Clay can't stand cars." She spoke almost conversationally as she observed a tube of Pringles. "Derek doesn't like them much either." I replied, as the crisps were passed to me. "Maybe they're more similar than they realise." She smiled, and I found myself returning it. "Maybe."

She bent to retrieve a large bottle of water from the bottom rack, her blonde hair falling around her face as she straightened up. It came down to her chin, vaguely straight yet messy. Artfully careless. She pushed it back out of her face as she held it under one arm. "What?" She asked, eyeing me suspiciously. "I like your hair." I told her, blushing with my admission. She seemed taken aback, surprised, possibly by my blunt honesty. "Thanks." She smiled thinly, pushing her hair away from her face self-consciously. We moved forward down the aisle. "I got it cut out of practicality, more than anything." She told me, facing a row of plastic packaging, a massive range of colours and flavours on display. I fingered the tips of my own hair. I had mine cut recently, hoping it would make me look older, perhaps even slightly edgy, but instead I looked waiflike and childish. I voiced this to Elena, who eyed my locks critically. Pursing her lips, she glanced out towards the car. Clay and Derek were still nowhere to be seen.

"Come on." She told me decisively, her grey eyes glittering mischievously. Nervously I followed her through the narrow aisles. When she came to a stop I blinked in surprise. "I-I- Really?" I stuttered. She flashed a brilliant grin. "It's not my area of expertise, I'll admit, but it seems simple enough."

"O-Okay." I smiled, turning to study the array of boxes before me. There weren't many to choose from, but all the basics were there.

"What about this?" Elena asked, and when I turned, she was grasping a box of brilliant auburn hair dye.

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><p><strong>Okay, I'll admit, not much happened, but I'm trying to build up stuff. <strong>

**Please review my lovelies? For a birthday present ? (;  
><strong>


	16. Chapter 16

I eyed the box sitting on the grimy counter dubiously. It smiled back at me with a carefree ignorance, mainly due to the beautiful redhead on the front beaming beatifically, flawless and a little too perfect for my liking. I touched a finger to the glossy cardboard packaging, tracing the shape of her long auburn locks and twisted the box to read the instructions printed on the back, before the blissful model could dent my self-esteem any further. It seemed simple enough, even with me being so clumsy it was almost a disability.

I was unsure at first, held back by my own confidence. Red hair was a big change for me, and, never having dyed hair before, I was uneasy about applying it to my whole head. Elena, being a source of sensible ideas, suggested dying streaks, rather than diving in boldly. "If you decide you like it, we can dye the whole thing later on." She told me, watching my inner dilemma.

I nodded, inwardly deciding that red streaks would give me the appearance of a candy cane, but still that it seemed like the most practical option.

Elena led me to the bathroom of the service station, after paying for our items and sweetly requesting the key. The guy handed it over easily, with a careless warning adhering to the cleanliness of the establishment. Warily, we forced the key into the rusty lock, edging the stiff door open inch by inch. It squealed in protest and caught on the uneven parquet tiles, chipped and off-colour. The walls were clearly aged, a grubby grey colour, even peeling in places, flakes of paint dusting the floor. There was a hole in one wall, untidy and haphazard, as though someone had punched it. As we pushed the door open, plaster fell from the edge of the cavity and made me jump. Elena observed the room calmly, an expression of mild distaste prevalent. She flicked the light switch, wiping her hand on her jeans as the overhead lights sprang to life, emitting a dull glow. The room didn't look any better bathed in weak light, and I began to rethink my decision. "At least it has electricity." She murmured as she strode forward to the sink. The taps whined in protest as she twisted them, water sputtering erratically. Large glugs of grey water erupted from the taps chaotically, and she tapped the side of the tank. "It'll run clear soon." She reassured me, noticing my apprehension.

I nodded again and heard her sigh. "You sure you wanna do this?" She asked me kindly, fishing the box from her plastic carrier bag of goods. I steeled myself. "Yes." I told her firmly, making sure not to stutter, as I sometimes did when nervous or scared. It was time for a new Chloe. No longer would Derek pick me up and dump me unpredictably, nor any other guy. Never again would someone refer to me as "naïve and young". I was beyond fed up of being treated like a child, or a hopeless pushover. And it was time to show them that.

Grabbing the box from Elena I moved to the sink, and she left, removing the heavy chain from the door handle and pulling it to.

Half an hour later, I was rinsing my hair as best I could under the small taps. I had hesitantly run water in the sink, rubbing at the grime with paper towels before putting my hair anyway near it. I had managed to apply the hair dye with minimal damage to my surroundings, although I doubted red hair dye would make much difference. If anything, it would add some colour to the dreary landscape. Then again, it looked a lot like blood. Realising this earlier, and deciding not to frighten Derek with red-stained hands, I made sure to wear the provided plastic gloves. Snapping them on, it was almost laughable how they swamped my hands. Securing them around my wrists using hair ties, I ran thick streaks of red through my hair, staring determinedly into the disgustingly dirty, cracked mirror hanging securely above the sink. I say securely; I was sure that anything not drilled to the walls or floor would have been stolen long ago.

About twenty minutes after she left me, Elena returned with a soft knock on the door. "Come in." I called, shrugging my tee back on. Entering, she smiled, holding up a small blue towel. "I found this in the trunk." She waved it before passing it to me. Grinning my thanks, I took it, patting my dripping hair and wincing at the cold water that was staining the neck of my shirt.

Ruffling my hair with the hand towel, I watched Elena glance at her watch. "We don't have much time." She walked further into the dingy room, peering behind cubicles. "Over here." She told me triumphantly, gesturing to a rickety hand dryer.

After drying my hair to the point where I was no longer leaving puddles and dampening my clothes, I ran a comb through my hair, offered by Elena. Nervously, I peered into the mirror, not daring to look too long. The red emphasised the blue of my eyes, making them seem brighter. I smiled at my reflection and turned to Elena. She beamed, seeing my satisfaction.

"It suits you." She complimented as we left the bathroom, and she returned the key, first dragging the door back into place. We approached the car, with Derek and Clay still nowhere to be found.

"What did you do?" A gruff voice barked behind me. I jumped and turned, running face first into a tanned and sweaty chest. "Oooof." I wheezed, and his arms came up around me, holding me.

"What did you do?" He repeated, and I moved my gaze from his broad shoulders, appealing, aside from being spattered with acne, and met his emerald stare head on.


	17. Chapter 17

**Hi, I am so so so unbelievably apologetic. I have no excuse, other than overly hectic life, eg. exams. **

**Anyway, hope you guys are doing okay?**

**And hopefully, I still have readers! Thank you to you loyal lot that will remain with me and this story throughout. It means a lot. (:**

**~walliezinga**

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><p>"I- I- I-" I stuttered, blushing more with each broken syllable falling from my mouth. He raised an eyebrow, thumbs stroking my shoulders gently. "Slow down." He soothed, but I could still see the steely edge in his jade eyes.<p>

"Chloe wanted a new look." Elena helpfully cut in, although Derek's gaze remained on me. He tilted his head, and I saw his eyes drink in my striped hair. I watched warily as comprehension dawned in his eyes, and slowly his arm twisted upwards, winding my curls around his giant fingers. I waited nervously, my patience beginning to crumble as I watched him think.

Finally he opened his mouth and, with a fleeting glance at Clay and Elena, murmured, "It looks…" He paused, rubbing the back of his neck roughly, and looking around the deserted car park. "Nice." He finally settled on an unimaginative adjective, the lone word hanging heavily between us in the thick silence. Casting a look at Clay and Elena, who were leaning against the car, talking in hushed tones, with Elena stretching her arms over her head, bending her spine before we settled in for another leg of the journey, I grappled for an appropriate response.

"Thanks." I began awkwardly, feeling my cheeks flood with heat at the meagre compliment. _Nice? What did that mean?_ Unable to tell if he really liked it, or whether he was just being polite, I fumbled desperately for another conversation topic. "So, what am I supposed to have done?" I joked, flashing him a toothy smile. He shifted uneasily, before gesturing weakly to my head. "You, er, have red on you." He mumbled, ducking his head to hide his steadily salmon cheeks. Furrowing my eyebrows in confusion, I looked down, searching for any patch of red on my shirt. There was none.

"Wha-?" I asked, pulling my gaze back up, stopping short when I noted the chaotic splashes of bloody dye decorating my arms. When I met Derek's gaze, he had the gall to look faintly amused. "You look horrified, Chloe." He chuckled lowly, proffering a small towel and some water that he had cradled in one arm. I reached out, thankful, but his grip tightened on the towel. "Actually…" He trailed off, reluctant to give up the grip on the fabric. I met his eyes, and they looked panicked.

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned, but he was already pulling the towel back towards him.

"Elena probably has a towel you can use." He mumbled, slinging his over his shoulder. I scrunched my face up in confusion as he turned back to the small red car. No way was I having that.

I hopped, tugging on the end of the towel and pulling it from his shoulder. It landed on my face, and I fell forward. Before I could hit the ground, my left arm was being wrenched upwards, and my body righted. "What did you do that for?" Derek asked, his voice brimming with barely concealed anger. I squeaked, and automatically tried to wrestle my left forearm from his grip. Looking down, he spotted his fist wrapped tightly around my arm, and relinquished immediately.

"Sorry." He murmured, only sounding a little like he meant it. "Can I have my towel back?" He asked hesitantly, rare for Derek.

I considered it, honestly I did. "Can I use it first?" I countered. When he hesitated, I started using it anyway, only to have it yanked from my grip. "You don't want that." He told me firmly, hitching it back over his shoulder. "Yes, I do." I argued, tugging on the end.

"No, Chloe." He replied sternly, sounding for all the world as though he was scolding a puppy. I nearly gave it up, but seeing the red stains on my arms, tightened my grip. New hair, new Chloe.

"Give it back, Chloe." Derek spoke tiredly, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

I shook my head, not daring to speak lest I stuttered, instead giving the towel an affirmative tug. Now, I knew that if this led to a game of tug, I would lose. Abysmally. The guy was stacked. But I had to hope he would give in before any battle of strength began. I'm sure one half-hearted yank on his part would haul me across the car park. How depressing.

"W- Why can't I h-have it?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice strong.

He mumbled an answer, ducking his head. "What?" I demanded, giving the towel another pull.

Elena, noticing the problem, hurried over to remedy the situation.

"What's going on?" She demanded, and I noticed Clay snickering against the small car.

"Nothing." Derek spoke roughly as I said, "Derek has a problem with sharing."

Elena pursed her lips, glancing between us, before sighing.

"Chloe, we'll get you a new towel."

"What?" I asked, a little indignant at being asked to give up my mini war.

"Come on." She smiled, gesturing me closer with a shake of her head.

Sighing dramatically, I released the towel and followed Elena, accepting an towel decorated with a cartoon wolf. "Chloe," She spoke, slowly, as though chewing over her words before speaking.

"Yeah?" I responded, my head down as I methodically sprayed water on my arms, and rubbed roughly with the towel.

"Be careful with Derek, at the moment. He's going through a rough time."

"B-But, he was being a jerk."

"I don't doubt it. But, trust me on this one, okay?"

I nodded my agreement, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn spot.

I heard her sigh. "Clay and I are going to take a few laps of the car park. Stay here, okay?"

I nodded again, settling my rear on the cement blocks that ran the edge of the lot and continuining my cleaning. Flicking my hair from my face, I paused when a large shadow fell over me. Derek stood awkwardly before me, fingers tangled together in front of him, shirt back on, I disappointedly noted.

"Can I sit down?" He asked, plonking himself down beside me before I could reply.

I shrugged and carried on cleaning my arms, not pausing when he began speaking.

"I'm… sorry." He spoke awkwardly, fumbling over the word. I tried not to smile. "It's okay, Derek." I mumbled, casting a glance sideways. He was watching me, emerald eyes alert and analytical.

"You could have let me use the towel, y'know." I nudged him playfully as he stiffened slightly.  
>"No, you couldn't." He rumbled, and I hesitated, curious. "Explain?" I probed, nudging him when he didn't speak.<p>

"It's just…" He floundered for words. "I… I smell, Chloe." He spoke, defeated, his face turned away and shadowed. I stared at him, totally destabilised by his bizarre admission.

"Well, so do I when I sweat." I shrugged, elbowing him gently. "We're only human, I reminded him."

"Yeah…" He trailed off, eyeing me speculatively. "See, Chlo, the thing is-"

"Come on, guys!" Elena was suddenly in front of me, helping me to my feet and collecting the towel, bundling it up tight. "We have to get moving if we want to make good time." She spoke quickly, ushering us towards the car, and towards another stressful hour.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Reviews would mean an awful lot, especially as I have half term in the next few days, and feel like writing. Might give me the boost to bang out a couple more chapters. (:<strong>

**This hasn't been proof-read by me, so any help would be appreciated (:**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey guys, sorry about the wait! This is kind of a filler, I have a big thing planned for next chapter, was going to write it into this but the pace didn't seem quite right.**

**Hope you enjoy anyway, and please review, it might get you a quicker update as I have spare time this week (;**

**~Wallie**

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><p>The car rocketed along the freeway, the trees littering the roadside morphing into a green blur. Derek was slumped beside me, snoring loudly after an hour of travel, and I tried not to laugh at the chainsaw impersonation.<p>

"You might wanna get some sleep too, blondie." Clay called back to me, eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "We'll be going for another hour or so, and then we'll stop off at another service station."

"O-okay…" I responded, shuffling in my seat to get comfortable. As I was adjusting my seatbelt, a small navy travel pillow was pushed onto my lap. "You don't want neckache." Elena smiled, pulling chunks of white bread from the loaf on her lap and feeding them to Clay. "Thanks." I smiled nervously back, curling my legs under me and situating the pillow behind my head. I closed my eyes and let my body sink into relaxation, the growl of the engine and the hum of tyres over smooth tarmac becoming a lullaby. I let my mind drift, rather than sleep, imagining what Derek's father would look like. Would he have Derek's eyes, hair, height? His mannerisms? I tried to imagine Derek, dark hair flecked with silver, emerald eyes filled with a lifetime of wisdom. My lips twitched into a small smile at the thought. If anything old age would make Derek grumpier. With that thought, I sank easily into sleep.

The quietly melodic trill of a phone cut through my thoughts, but I kept my eyes closed, trying to fall back asleep. I never got as much as Derek, who was usually a seriously light sleeper, but for some reason had crashed completely, sleeping through all noise. I heard Elena cuss and fumble for the phone, wrappers crackling. "Hello?" She asked, through a mouthful of food.

"Is it Jeremy?" Clay asked quickly, "Tell him we're on our way."

Elena nodded, "He wants to speak to you." I heard the phone change hands, then Clay speaking, harsh and quiet into the speaker. "Listen, I think we got summa Cain's mutts on our trail. This isn't Stonehaven… y'know how many mutts are gonna wanna get their shitty paws on me?"

Silence, as Elena chewed her bread and collected the wrappers. "Gawdammit, Jer… ya'll owe me for this, y'know that?"

"Kate wants to speak to you, darlin'." A raspy chuckle, before the phone was passed back to Elena. "She misses her momma."

"Hey baby," Elena gushed into the phone, a tone of voice I'd never heard her use. "We'll be back soon, okay? Make sure you look after Grandpa, and your brother, and don't eat too much-"

A pause, and then, caught between disbelief and amusement, "She hung up on me."

A short bark from Clay. "Give her another year and I promise she'll be doin' a lot worse than that darlin'."

"Oh god, I hope not... We get anymore crisps?"

"Nah, sorry darlin', think me and Derek had the last lot. Kid can eat for 'Merica."

A tinkling laugh. "Says you." I heard wrappers being pushed around, and the pop of a Pringles tube.

"What you said to Jeremy… "

"Hun, don't sweat it, kay? Those mutts don't have a chance."

"Clay, I worry, okay? Your little stunt won't last forever, and we have kids now. And… what about your brother, Clay?"

"What about him?"

A snort. "You know as well as I do, that they're interested in him. And we-"

"I don't wanna talk bout this, kay? We'll get him under pack protection."

"But-"

"You awake, blondie?" He hollered harshly, and I internally flinched.

Blinking blearily, I pretended to rub sleep from my eyes, straightening up. "Where are we?" I asked, furrowing my eyebrows at the change of scenery.

Large industrial buildings lined the road, and Clay carefully manoeuvred the tangled web of narrow paths. "There's a mall down here somewhere. Supermarket an' all." I nodded, shaking Derek awake hesitantly. He grunted the first few times, before easing one eye open grumpily. "What?" I tried not to take the blunt interrogative personally. "We're gonna stop off at a mall, buy some food, have a stretch."

"I'm gonna see if we can't change this shit-heap." Clay stated, tapping the steering wheel.

"Why?" Derek asked curiously, straightening up and pushing hair back from his face.

"Uh-" Clay cast a glance at Elena, who pulled on a toothy smile. "Stonehaven has a lot of rocky tracks, not all tarmac like this."

"'Sides," Clay grinned, "It'll probably have more space, and who can argue with that?"

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><p><strong>Thank you !<strong>

**Hope you enjoyed, please review my lovelies.**

**Also, I have some firm chapters planned, but has anyone got any ideas on what they would like to happen, be it big or small? I'll credit any ideas I like and haven't already got planned (:  
><strong>

**I'll try to update soon!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hi guys!**

**Sorry, it's been so long. Life is just hectic. People in hospital, blah, blah, excuses. I hope most of you are still here with me, reading (: **

**Anyway, here's the chapter that I've been doing in bits amongst the chaos. I'd recommend going back a chapter, just to remind yourselves and keep the story pace. Hope you all enjoy it. Please review to show me (and this story!) some love.**

**Thanks,**

**~Walliezinga**

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><p>I worked my nail over the surface of the table, grimacing a little when the greasy red vinyl crumbled and flakes clung to my fingers. Hastily rubbing my hand against my jeans, I surveyed the small area that served as a collection of varied fast-food stands, gathered around an array of cheap tables and seating, it was the perfect place to grab a snack or, in the case of Elena and Clay, who were seated at a nearby table, a feast.<p>

A young mother in the corner was wrestling her toddler for control of a fat fistful of fries, sticky chocolate smeared around his chubby cheeks, while another calmly fed hers pieces of fruit; the child sat demurely, eyeing the arcade signs visible through the archway, a desirable reward, fitting for exemplary behaviour. I took a long sip from my cup; the straw pulled on air and the melting ice rattled in the depths of the container. I begrudgingly nudged the cup forward onto the plastic tray that was amounting to an impressive amount of rubbish, and leaned back against the tacky chair.

A group of teenage girls had just settled at the table across from us, giggling and gossiping. From where I was sat, I could hear them simultaneously gushing about cute boys and complaining about their upcoming History test. I cocked my head back against the wall, eyeing Derek who, in my peripheral, was also watching the girls, an almost deadpan expression glued to his face. I felt my face twist into a frown as I glanced back at the group. They were all skinny, yet none possessed the unfortunately childish figure that I seemed to be cursed with, with the exception of one extremely curvy girl, who was digging into her burger with absolute enthusiasm, much to the dismay of the others, who warned her cattily about the dangerous calories that lurked within the food. She shrugged off their words, taking unnecessarily large bites.

Rolling my eyes, I turned my attention back to Derek, who was still watching the girls intently, as though he was going to be tested on their behaviour. I reached for his fries slowly, warily, and plucked one from its greasy cardboard confines with no dispute. Frowning, I pushed it into my mouth and took more. Still nothing.

"All right, what's wrong?" I asked, jolting Derek from wherever he had been. He focused on my face, jade eyes suddenly aware and alert.

"What?" He questioned, his mouth set in a firm line. "I- wait, are those my fries?" I paused, a handful of fries in one hand, the other popping them one by one into my waiting mouth.

"Um… yes?" I replied, "They're mine now." I affirmed, keeping my handful close to my chest.

"Fine." He said, rubbing his forehead roughly, "I wasn't too hungry, anyway." I shoved the remaining fries into my mouth and, while chewing frantically, reached over to lay my hand against his forehead.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine." He snapped, holding my wrist away from his face. "Just tired."

"You slept the whole way here." I spoke, a little dismayed to realise just how whiny I sounded.

"Well, maybe I want to sleep some more." Derek snapped, his face still retaining a slightly dead expression, while his fists clenched angrily against his thighs.

"Um, guys?" Elena was suddenly at our side, hauling her backpack onto her shoulders.

"I was just thinking that we might as well get some shopping done while we're here. All expenses paid." She flashed a toothy grin, one that, under other circumstances, may have appeared a little sardonic.

"Wow, that's really nice of you." I started, floundered by their generosity, but Derek interrupted curtly.

"We're not charity."

Elena, if she was surprised by his rudeness, didn't show it, instead smoothly retorting. "I know that, Derek, but Jeremy wanted to-"

"I don't care what _Jeremy_ wants." Derek spoke aggressively, lowly, into his hand. "He's never bought me anything before, and I don't need him to start now."

"Derek," I began, but he cut me off, his eyes red and feverish, sweat beading on his brow as he agitatedly scratched his arms.

"No, I have a family, Chlo. I have money. And I sure as hell don't need anything from _Jeremy._" He spat, "I don't even know why we're here."

"You're here because you wanted answers, Derek." Clay sauntered up to the table, placing his palms flat on the sticky surface and leaning threateningly over Derek. "And if you talk to Elena like that again, I'll remind you of what you really are, which is nothing more than a mu-"

"Clay." Elena grabbed his arm, staring at him urgently. "I'm okay. Lay off."

He grunted, but did not relax his aggressive stance, keeping his eyes fixed on Derek. "Kid, right now, we're keeping you safe. Safer than you realise, I bet. Be sure to remember that."

"I'll keep note." Derek snapped, rubbing the curve of his palm across his face roughly.

The tension was high, so high that I felt strung up and agitated, nervous and wanting to get as far away as possible.

"It couldn't hurt to have a look around the shops, I guess." I said quickly to Elena, fully aware of how squeaky my voice had become.

"I suppose." She said doubtfully, casting a wary look at Clay and Derek, both with defensive postures. "Chloe, why don't you put our trash away? I'll catch up."

Suspicious, but I wasn't going to bother arguing, especially after Derek's tirade. I rose from my seat, the tacky vinyl making a flattering noise, and gathered the rubbish onto the tray, forming a hazardous heap. "See you later." I smiled at Derek, and he grunted in return, his green eyes hard and defensive. Pursing my lips I made my way past the giggling girls, and upturned the plastic tray over the hungry gaping mouth of the litter bin. Sliding it onto an abandoned pile, I glanced over my shoulder, watching Elena hiss angrily at Clay, gesturing curtly, an icy fire burning in her eyes.

I awkwardly waited under one of the archways, arms crossed, and watched Elena cuss out both men, who continued to stare at each other coldly. I started picking my nails, and shifted my weight, feeling the wall force my bag into the small of my back. Elena paused in her rampage to check on me, her eyes scanning anxiously. She scrunched her face up subtly, her nose crinkling, and her eyes found me by the door. Confident that I wasn't going anywhere, she pulled her backpack onto her shoulders, angrily retorting to whatever Clay had said in return.

I let my eyes wander, following the generic pattern that laced the mall floor, dirty and discoloured with wear. I ran my eyes over the area; the cheap plastic seats that by either paranoia or mandate were bolted to the floor, the shop windows that featured colour and sale opportunities, and the large dark-haired man that leant casually by the entrance to the toilets, eyes fixed firmly on me.

Feeling suddenly self-conscious, I shifted uncomfortably, tugging on my backpack straps and glancing at the table. Elena was sat beside Derek, talking quietly to him while he doggedly gazed at the red vinyl. Clay was nowhere to be found. Outside, I assumed, searching for a car to replace our little red one. Confident that I was safe within eyesight of both Elena and Derek, I decided to keep a subtle eye on the threatening man.

I was trying not to appear obvious, but subtlety was never my strong point. Recalling something from my years watching people rehearse while painting sets and editing scripts, I lifted my arm to my face, resting it on the arm drawn across my stomach protectively, and peeked delicately past my hand. Still he watched me, a lazy smile swimming across his face, his eyes animalistic surveying my short body and child-like features. Panic struck me, and the look on his face apprehended me, leaving me unable to move. Was he some kind of pervert? Worried, I glanced back at Elena; she was standing from the table, gesturing to Clay who had magically reappeared, drink in hand.

I glanced back at the man, who threw me a languid wink and turned, disappearing into the toilets. I gulped nervously, my insides twisting, feeling sweat break out across my brow.

I jumped skittishly as a hand touched my shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Elena questioned, her stormy eyes searching mine. I nodded, though I must have been unconvincing, as her mouth twisted and she took the crook of my arm uncomfortably, dragging me forward into a clothing store.

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading!<strong>

**I'm working on the next part tonight, as some was in this chapter, but didn't fit the pacing. (:**

**Hope you enjoyed it anyway! Please review! (:**


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